In Search of Safety - A Til Death do us Part Sequel
by MissjudyK
Summary: In this third story of Adam and Melinda, they are headed to the Ponderosa for a visit. Not everyone is happy to see them, and they will have to deal with an unexpected visitor and Melinda's "cat"astrophic illness. Life is never easy for the Cartwrights, but it's always interesting.
1. Chapter 1

**In Search of Safety**

 **Part I**

 **Old Bonds…Old Wounds**

 **One: Mistaken Identity**

Adam and Melinda Cartwright had left Boston in a rush over a week ago, and they were finally nearing their destination: Virginia City.

They had traveled by rail in the Wadsworth's lavishly appointed train car, but had to take a stagecoach for the final stretch through the states where rail service wasn't well established or used a different track size than the railways of the east. After the luxury of their initial accommodations, the stage had left them jostled, dusty, and restless to reach the end of their journey.

Adam's heart began to race as their coach passed the mile-marker indicating that they would reach Virginia City in a matter of minutes. He had thought about his family every day since he'd left the Ponderosa two years ago, and he was looking forward to being with all of them again.

He gave no outward indication of his anticipation other than a quick grin as they entered town and passed the Bucket of Blood saloon. His mind was immediately flooded with memories of the times he'd spent in that establishment. In fact, every building they passed held recollections: some were pleasant and calm; others were raucous, disorderly and more fun than he could describe to someone who hadn't lived through them, and still others were subdued and somber. He saw a few familiar faces too as they drove through town. Roy Coffee was holding two young boys by their shoulders as he chastised them for untying horses from the hitch rails, and Paul Martin turned down a side street toward his office just as the stage passed by.

This homecoming was unplanned, so he wasn't even sure how many people knew that they were arriving. Adam's boss and close friend, Frank Wadsworth, had sent a telegram to Ben the night Adam and Melinda had left Boston, letting him know a few details of the incident that had sent his son and daughter-in-law on their way west. Adam had wired his father with updates along the way, sending the last one yesterday with their "expected" arrival time. He knew his father would want an immediate and complete telling of the story that had brought them there, but he hoped he could stall until they got settled at the ranch. He figured his father was caught somewhere between fretting over the circumstances that had made them seek the safety of the Ponderosa, and being overjoyed at their visit.

He glanced at Melinda and saw that she was still holding the curl of hair that she'd been twirling for the last several minutes. "Nervous?" he asked as he took her hand.

"A little," she confessed. "I already know Ben, and I feel like I know a little about your brothers from the stories you and your father told me, but…"

"But?"

"But there's no guarantee that they'll like me, Adam. I suppose I'm feeling like you did when you first got to know my family."

He laughed loudly, "I do hope it will go better than that first meal with your mother. She was bent on finding fault with me—and she succeeded in some remarkable ways."

Melinda patted his hand. "I know that wasn't pleasant, but you and Mother are very close now, and she has apologized many times for her nastiness that day."

"That should make you optimistic. Even if Hoss and Joe don't like you at first, they might come to appreciate you over the course of our stay." Noticing the pinched look of fear that washed across his wife's face he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her near. "Seriously, Melinda, I can't imagine them not taking to you from the moment they lay eyes on you. Pa got to know you pretty well when he visited, and I'm sure he told them how nice you are."

"I suppose that's true." Her brows and lips settled into their normal positions as she teased, "What's not to like?" She turned to view the town passing by and grimaced as she considered how long this visit would seem if Adam's brothers _did_ find things to dislike about her. She pondered aloud, "I wish you had a picture of Hoss and Little Joe. I've imagined them from the stories I've heard, but I have no idea if I'm even close when compared to how they really look."

"Pa had pictures of us at the house, but nothing I could bring along. And they've never seen a picture of you either, so you're all on equal footing." They pulled to a stop in front of the Overland Stage office where Adam got out and assisted Melinda. Pointing to a wagon on the other side of the broad street, he told her, "That's our buckboard, but I don't see Pa." He squinted as he looked through the office window. "It's only 11:20, so we're actually a good half-hour early. He's probably visiting with someone, thinking he's still got time before we arrive."

Their luggage had been handed down and lay in a pile on the boardwalk. Adam looked at it and then hailed a teenaged boy walking past. "I'll give you 25 cents if you take these bags over to that wagon."

The youngster looked at the number of bags and considered the offer. "Make that a half-dollar, Mister, and it's a deal."

After the coin was exchanged, Adam pulled Melinda aside. "I'm going to the Western Union office to wire Frank that we've arrived. I'll send one to your parents and Abel as well, and then I need to stop at the bank. It would be best if you make sure the boy gets things transferred, and then wait for Pa. I won't be gone more than fifteen minutes and if he's not here by then, we'll leave him a note and go to lunch."

Melinda watched her husband walk away and suddenly felt very alone. She encouraged the young man in his task, asking him to be careful with one case that contained her hand mirror and lotions. When the bags were properly tied down, she climbed onto the wagon seat, pulled a small volume of poems from her handbag and began to read. A few people walked past, giving her questioning looks, but they said nothing to her. She overhead two ladies remark after they'd gone by, "I haven't seen her around here before. Wonder what she's doing on Ben Cartwright's rig?" This made her suspect that Ben had not told many people that Adam was coming home. Virginia City was a growing town by Western standards, but it was still small enough that gossip would spread quickly. Such news as the eldest Cartwright son returning with a wife would have started a prairie fire of speculation and interest.

She'd barely found her place in the book again when she was startled by a man hurrying across the street from the barber shop located a few doors down from the stage office. He was still wearing his barber's cape, and all but his chin was covered with shaving soap. He stopped in the street a few feet away and locked her with a questioning stare.

"Miss, are you aware that you're sitting on Ben Cartwright's wagon?"

"Yes," she replied with a smile. "I'm waiting for my husband. And it's Mrs., not Miss. I'm Mrs. Cartwright."

He groaned while shaking his head. "Does he know you're here?"

"Not yet," she admitted. "The stage just pulled in. I was told that this was his wagon and I had the luggage brought over, but…"

The man cut her off. "I suppose that next you're going to say that you met him when he was on a trip somewhere and you got married while he was there." He rolled his eyes then as he folded his arms across his chest and glared up at her.

Melinda was confused by man's tone and posture, and her answer held an edge. "That's true. Ben was on a trip when I got married, but it's…"

He cut in again. "Look, lady, you aren't the first to try this. And although you're even prettier and younger than the last woman to make the claim, I know what you're up to and I'm going to stop this right now."

Another man who was similarly attired with barber's cape and shaving soap had exited the shop and joined the first one near the wagon. "What'd you leave out for?" he chided his companion. "Zeke says to get back over there or he'll charge double for having to re-lather us."

The smaller man elbowed the new arrival and said, "I want you to meet _Mrs. Cartwright._ She's waiting for her _husband_. I came over to see what was going on after I saw Mike Handley load her bags onto the buckboard. She claims she met Ben Cartwright somewhere else and got married while he was there." He removed his covering and wiped the remaining lather from his cheeks before elbowing the other man again. "Doesn't this all sound familiar? Maybe we should get the sheriff so he can ask her what she's up to."

Melinda's eyes went round with astonishment. "I have no idea what you're insinuating. Why would you think I'm _up to_ something? In fact, if you don't leave right now, _I'll_ call for the sheriff."

The larger of the two pulled the other a few steps back. "Listen, maybe you got something wrong here. Let's just wait for Pa and see what he says."

The smaller man was not deterred. He looked up at Melinda and scoffed. "I suppose you have a marriage license proving you got hitched to Ben Cartwright. Then when Ben actually arrives you'll say that he's not the man you married; that it was someone else calling himself Ben Cartwright. You'll be all forlorn and say that this other man took your life savings and you'll be lookin' for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on."

Melinda was on her feet. "What are you talking about? Why would Ben Cartwright and I have a marriage license?"

"You said you was waitin' on your husband, ma'am." It was taller of the duo who gave the explanation, and then looked down while picking at the loose hairs and soap bubbles that speckled his cape.

She looked scathingly at each of them, trying to make sense of what was happening, and then something the larger one had said emerged from the fog. _He said this was his Pa's wagon_. As she was about to break the news about who she was, she happened to see Adam heading toward the wagon. "I'm not married to Ben Cartwright," she said while beginning to laugh. "I'm married to that Cartwright!" She pointed at the black-hatted figure approaching them.

The two men didn't reply; they took off at a run, hollering, "Adam!" After a time of back slapping and conversation, the three brothers returned to Melinda. One of them was red-faced and looking sheepish, while another looked like he was melting as he tried to wipe the dissolving shaving soap from his face with his shirtsleeves.

Adam made the introductions. "Melinda, this is my youngest brother, Joe…you know, the one who was accusing you of claiming to be married to Pa. And this strapping fellow is Hoss." He helped his wife down from the wagon to receive the welcoming wishes of her brothers-in-law.

"What was that all about?" she asked of them once they'd settled down from the surprise of seeing their brother.

"They've been gone for three weeks, and didn't know we were on the way." Adam explained. "They stopped in town to get a shoe put on Joe's horse, and decided to get a haircut and lunch before heading home. Joe saw you on our wagon and jumped to an erroneous conclusion."

Hoss took up the story. "Ya see, a couple years back, a fine lookin' woman came to the house sayin' she'd married Pa when they met up in a different city. She even had a license, but when Pa got home, she said he weren't the man she'd married. We all went to find out who this man was, and nearly ended up hangin' for murder. It turned out to be some danged plot to get rid of us so she'd'a been Pa's widow and could take over the ranch."

Little Joe finally spoke up. "I'm sorry about the mix-up." He looked at Adam and back to his sister-in-law as a sly grin replaced his look of remorse. "I guess it was easier to believe that you were pulling one over on Pa than that our brother would actually come home for a visit."

Adam replied to his brother's comment with a one-eyed squint and shake of the head, and then urged, "Why don't you two go finish getting prettied up. Heaven knows you need it. Meet us at the International House when you're done. I saw Pa at the bank and he's going to join us there too.

In the time it took the Cartwrights to finish their meal, the news that Adam was back, with a wife, had indeed spread like wildfire. Sheriff Coffee and Paul Martin made their way to the hotel to welcome Adam back and meet Melinda, while several pairs of ladies had entered the hotel and gawked at the couple while pretending to be interested in the lobby greenery.

As they made their way to the buckboard afterwards, Melinda could hear bits and pieces of conversation about them drifting from the doorways and walks. Most comments were about Melinda's looks or speculation that she was a wealthy woman from Boston, but the one that settled directly into the raw area of her heart was an older woman who said loudly to her companion, "Ben must be sorely disappointed. From the looks of her it don't appear there's any grandchildren on the way yet."

Melinda looked over at Adam and knew by the color rising in his cheeks that he'd heard it too. She laughed tightly while poking him gently in the ribs. "I thought you said we'd be safe here."

He winked at her, and instead of assisting her up into the wagon, he pulled her tightly against him and gave her a long, thorough kiss before whisking her into his arms and depositing her in the buckboard. "There," he laughed, "That ought to give them something else to talk about for a while."

Ben reached over and took Melinda's hand before starting out. "Don't let those old biddies get under your skin. There's been a drought of things to chinwag about in this town, and you and Adam arriving is like a gossip wellspring. We'll invite some friends out to meet you and they'll find out what a wonderful woman you are."

Melinda leaned over to give Ben a peck on the cheek before he slapped the reins and sent the team moving. She began to laugh along with Adam when they heard the same women talking as they drove past them. "Did you see the way he kissed her, Mildred? And the way he lifted her up? Why you could see her stockings and petticoats! I never…"

But as Melinda glanced back, she noticed that Mildred did not look all that shocked by the display of affection Adam had exhibited. In fact…Mildred was grinning like a schoolgirl.

 **Two – Hey, Adam, There's a Woman in Your Bed**

Adam had declined to discuss their ordeal in Boston during lunch, and he knew Ben was itching for the details on the way to the ranch. But as they cleared the last city street he put an end to those hopes by saying, "I know you're anxious to hear about Castelletti, Pa, but let's wait until everyone's together at dinner tonight." That had been enough to keep his father talking about the changes on the ranch and showing Melinda the wonders of the Ponderosa as they made their way home.

As they neared the house, Ben said, "I'm going out to pay the hands, Adam. Any chance you'd like to ride along?"

Observing Melinda biting her lips and twisting at the same curl from before, he offered, "I think I'd best show Melinda around a little first so she knows where to find everything. Once she's busy unpacking, I'll change clothes and meet you out there. Did you say the crew is on the flat?"

"That's where we'll be," Ben confirmed, and added, "I know Hugh and the rest of the men that were here before you left are anxious to see you."

Hugh Rollins had started working for their family a few years before Adam had left for school. He had taught the eldest son, whom he'd christened, "Young Cartwright," much of what he knew about driving steers. Adam pondered, "I'm surprised Hugh hasn't retired yet. I remember him complaining that his knees and shoulders were aching, and his back didn't take well to hours in the saddle anymore."

Ben smiled and nodded. "Hugh is helping out today, but he retired and bought a small spread shortly after you left. He pitches in during drives and takes his pay in livestock."

"I'm glad for him."

When they made it home, Adam took care of the wagon and team while his father saddled Buck. After a warm welcome, Hop Sing kept Melinda busy showing her around the yard until Ben rode off and Adam was free to help the cook carry their bags into the house. The small powerhouse then begged their forgiveness in abandoning them. "Must go now. Work on garden and pick peas for dinner."

Alone with her husband, Melinda blew out a long breath. "There are some lovely estates back in Boston, but when you ride up to the Ponderosa and see this house set here in the pines, it takes your breath away."

"Thank you."

Her brows rose. "Why are you thanking me?"

"Because I designed the house before I went to college. Pa put it up while I was gone, and it's one of the reasons it took me so long to get back to you."

"Huh?" Her voice flirted with mild annoyance but quickly moved toward teasing. "You're saying you loved this _house_ more than you loved _me_?"

"There's something about this place: not just the house but the land too. It becomes part of you. After working so hard to make it produce and become a success, it was hard to leave. Yet around the time I saw you in Sacramento, it was beginning to feel a little more like a burr under my belt, so it was time to see what other wonders the world might hold." He took her hand, "C'mon, I'll show you around."

After a quick tour, Adam left Melinda in his room and trotted downstairs to get water for her to wash up. He knew Hop Sing would have an ample supply of water warming in the bathhouse tank since he was preparing a welcome-home supper. The Cartwright men knew that on such occasions, you didn't come to the table with trail dust hanging from your ears and eyebrows or Hop Sing would give you a dressing down with orders to return when you were properly washed and attired.

He found Melinda stripped to her camisole and petticoat by the time he returned and had to breathe deeply to tamp the passion that she always aroused in him. It didn't work. Setting the ewer down, he pulled her near and slipped his hands beneath the loose undergarment.

She moaned and began to tremble as his breath warmed her skin where he trailed kisses along the curve of her neck. Raising her arms, she urged him to remove the cotton barrier between them, while saying breathlessly, "I thought you said we couldn't do this here."

"I said we couldn't do this if someone was around." He slid her petticoats to the floor as she worked the buttons of his shirt, tugged it from his arms, and then moved her hands down his chest to his waist. He gasped before saying, "Hoss and Joe aren't back yet, Pa's gone, and Hop Sing is outside; it's now or never, darlin'."

She opened his belt and set to work on the buttons of his trousers as she declared, "If those are my options, I choose now!"

Adam had noticed earlier when he'd taken the wagon team's harnesses into the barn that Sport was no longer quartered with the family mounts. When he came outside intending to ride out to meet his father and the crew, he walked toward the fenced pasture where the riding horses grazed. He'd worried about leaving Melinda alone, but she had promised, "You go on and I'll be fine. There are clothes to unpack, and a letter to write to my parents. If you're not back by then, I'll see if Hop Sing needs help shucking peas."

Leaning against the fence, he observed the fine horseflesh the Ponderosa kept "just in case" they were needed, and then snickered while a devilish smile played at the corners of his mouth as he thought about what he'd been doing a few minutes earlier. _I just left my wife…in my bed_.

After he'd returned from college, he'd often rested in that same bed, considering the type of woman he would marry. Adam had twice witnessed what his father was like as a married man. Although those two women had been as different as night and day in looks and background, on the inside they were the same—as loving and devoted to Ben Cartwright as he was to them. That was the kind of marriage he'd wanted too. He shook his head as he realized that whenever he'd allowed himself such reflection back then, the only face he'd seen by his side was the intelligent and beautiful young woman he'd left behind in Boston. As time and circumstances in Adam's own life had moved him into his 30's as a bachelor, and then after the near mistake with Laura, he'd begun to wonder if he'd ever be married.

But it had happened. He and Melinda had met again unexpectedly and found that they had both remained in love, even though their letters to each other had never reached their destinations. That bit of fate had left them each to think that the other no longer cared. At the time they'd re-met, he'd been engaged to Laura, but when things had worked out, he'd left the Ponderosa and gone to find Melinda again. They'd been married nearly a year already, and in his wildest dreams as a single man, he'd never considered that it would be _this_ good to be a husband. Yet he also knew that if his wife was anyone but Melinda that might not be true.

A shiver coursed through his body as he thought about the physical side of their marriage. Melinda had two very progressive women who had helped to mold her character, and both her mother and her aunt believed that women should be partners in a marriage…in every way. He'd worried that she would be shy on their wedding night, but he needn't have. She had been eager in their first experience as a couple, and every time since then. When he teased her about her healthy appetite for marital intimacy, she just smiled and said that she was making up for twelve years of lost time.

There was more to it than that, though. Adam knew that his satisfaction with marriage was far more than just in the physical realm. It was equally about being so close to another person that he felt they were united in mind and soul as well as heart. They'd already faced so much in their short time as a couple, and he hoped they could weather anything if they did it together. He woke most mornings to her arm draped across his chest; her tousled hair framing her face as she gave a sleepy smile when he kissed her. He came home to find her waiting—welcoming him with her embrace and kiss, and then chattering on about her day and asking about his. Love was a wonderful thing when accompanied by trust and openness. There were certainly times when they argued and were cross or out of sorts, and they didn't always understand each other. But their love covered the multitude of their flaws.

The only thing missing was a child. They'd both hoped for a baby soon after they married, but Melinda had always had irregular cycles and while that had never seemed a problem when she was single, it now meant there were far fewer opportunities to conceive. They'd been advised to be patient—to stop thinking or talking about it. In the end that was all they could do. Worrying didn't help, so they had agreed to let life take its course—whatever that might be.

He looked back again at his bedroom window before bringing his thumb and forefinger to his lips and issuing a sharp whistle. A chestnut head popped up from among the horses nibbling at the tufts of grass in the field. A white blaze shone in the sun as the big steed turned in the direction of the signal, and seeming to recognize the summoner, loped toward the fence. Nuzzling his master's hand, he nickered as Adam said, "Hiya, boy. Wanna go for a ride?"

 **Three** \- **The Horse Apple Principle of Truth**

Adam began telling the story of why he and Melinda had left Boston that evening while the family had an aperitif and waited for Hop Sing's call to the table.

"Louis Castelletti," Hoss repeated the name Adam had said. "Ain't he the same feller Pa told us kidnapped Melinda before yer wedding?"

"The very same."

"I thought he'd be in prison for some time after all he done."

"We thought so too, Hoss, but the only charges brought against him were for running illegal gambling houses. Castelletti didn't dirty his hands with running his brothels, and the man who actually did—the one who'd actually kidnapped Melinda—was killed during the rescue. With some well-placed bribes to ease the way, Castelletti was released in a few months."

Ben's jaw set into a worried frown. "So what was he after this time, son?"

"He wanted me to construct a tunnel from a building he'd purchased, into the basement of the federal bank next door. He hoped to get at the stores of foreign currency and counterfeit U.S. money being held there that had been collected by the Secret Service."

"But that wasn't the worst of it," Melinda broke in. "Tell them Castelletti's real goal."

"He wanted to destroy me, I guess. He seemed to hate that I was an honest man, and wanted to break me by taking away everything I held important in my life."

Hoss grimaced. "How'd he do that?"

"The plan was to make me commit a federal crime for one thing, and then he started rumors about me bribing officials in the city planning department. Luckily Frank had a pretty good idea what was going on, yet he had to fire me when he heard about that so as not to give his suspicions away. That still wasn't enough for Castelletti. He set a plan in motion to make Melinda believe I was leaving her."

"That doesn't sound like something you'd abide by without a fight." Ben's worried look deepened.

Melinda answered. "Castelletti said he'd kill me and Able if Adam let anyone know what was going on. He had to allow it all to happen to keep us safe."

"That's what I figered,"Hoss declared. "I can't see Adam doing nothin' like that without a strong reason making him. So how'd you get away from him?"

Adam finished telling of constructing the tunnel to collapse and working with the Secret Service when it was over.

"So is Castelletti going to be in prison for a long time now?" Ben's scowl had turned to a hopeful smile.

"He's dead, Pa. One of his men shot him." Adam drained his glass and breathed a relieved sigh at being done with the story.

"I bet you're glad he won't be coming back any more," Hoss said as he shook his head. "It seems that man had a particular kind of hate fer ya."

Melinda took her husband's arm and laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm just glad Adam won't have to make any more life-and-death decisions because of 'that man.'"

Joe had remained quiet throughout the telling, but finally joined in. "Well that wasn't the first time our older brother had to make that kind of decision. It happened here a few years ago when Adam put Pa's life on the line to prove that he was a better man than Sam Bryant."

The heads of the other Cartwrights snapped toward the speaker with Ben being the first to object. "I don't think you're giving Melinda a fair picture of what happened, Joe." His laugh was tight and his voice had a warning edge as he continued. "What my youngest is referring to was an incident where one of the mine bosses…" He noticed Melinda's eyebrows dip, and chuckled as he settled into the story. "I forget you aren't from around here. Let me start a little further back. There was a lot of lawlessness at the silver mines when the money started flowing, and bosses were hired by the mine owners to enforce order and protect their interests. These men were often shady types who hired gunmen and thugs to help them, and eventually bands of enforcers created a far more alarming situation than they'd been hired to prevent. The worst boss by far was this, Sam Bryant. He moved from keeping order at the mines to terrorizing the town as he demanded money for protection against the 'criminal element.'"

Hoss took over the tale as his father broke off for a sip of wine. "Funny thing about it was that the criminals they paid to be protected from was actually the men that they was givin' their money to. Didn't make sense a'tall, but most paid up. Things got so bad that Sam pretty much thought he controlled everything in town…includin' the law. But when one of his men, a feller named Farmer Perkins, murdered a shopkeeper in front of the man's wife, the town finally had enough."

"So what happened?" Melinda's eyes were bright, yet shadowed by concern as she held tightly to Adam's hand.

Joe spoke up again. "The judge sentenced Farmer to hang, and then Sam kidnapped Pa in retaliation. He said that if the sheriff hanged his man, he'd do the same to Ben Cartwright."

"I'm confused." Melinda tipped her head as her forehead puckered. "How did Adam end up making a decision about Ben's life?"

Hoss reclaimed the story. "The whole family had been deputized, and then the sheriff got himself shot and Adam had to take over. He felt the only way to make a stand was to go right on with the hangin'."

"Knowing that the same thing might happen to his father." She shook her head sadly.

Joe shrugged. "That was the dilemma in a nutshell. But I think it was an easier decision for Adam to put Pa's life on the line. He had more to lose if you had died."

"Ben's annoyed, "Joseph!" was uttered just as Hop Sing announced dinner. As he led his family to the table, Ben said pointedly in the direction of his youngest son, "Sam Bryant and Louis Castelletti were pretty much the same man. In the end, Adam had to stand up to both of them to prove they couldn't win against people with character. He couldn't feign a hanging like he could pretend to be blowing a hole into a bank for this Castelletti, so he had to go ahead with Farmer's sentence. Sam couldn't get me to beg for my life either, and he finally caved in as he understood that he'd underestimated the Cartwright grit." Ben stood behind his chair at the head of table, as he gave each of his boys a quick nod, and added, "It was _exactly_ what I would have done and I was proud of all three of my sons for standing strong when they might have backed down under pressure or from fear." He waited for Adam to assist Melinda, and then took his seat before completing the story. "In the end, one of Sam's own men shot him, much like Castelletti. I don't think those two men could believe that anyone would continue to plan against them with the stakes so high. They assumed that normal men would have been too afraid to stand up to them."

Hoss laughed. "Melinda, you should probably know that the Cartwrights ain't never been normal men." He inhaled appreciatively as Hop Sing brought the first platter to the table. "You're in for a treat tonight, Sister-in-Law. No one can cook pork like our Hop Sing."

A quick chuckle preceded Joe's thought. "Pork? I thought we'd have fatted calf for _Adam's_ return."

Ben gave a tight laugh. "Your brother is hardly a prodigal son, Joseph."

"I know." Joe looked toward Adam and grinned. "But we could have laid palm branches hailing his return if we'd have known he was coming. After all he is a genius; a hero among men; a foiler of crimes… How can we poor cow-punchers hope to hold a candle to him?"

Hoss handed Joe a bowl with peas and rolled his eyes. "You'll excuse my brother, ma'am," he said, turning to Melinda, "he's had a bad day and isn't his usual good-natured self tonight. He got charged exter for running out of the barber shop and then found out that his horse is lame and he had to leave him in town. The poor old nag he rode home could barely trot and it took us forever to get here."

"I'm sorry to hear about Cochise. How serious is it?" Adam asked.

"You don't need to worry about it, Adam. He should be fine in a day or two." Joe's words were clipped while delivered with a smile.

Melinda's eyes had been widening throughout Joe's comments and she was glad when Hoss asked her to tell him about her family."

"I grew up in Connecticut, but I spent a lot of time with my aunt who lived next door to Abel Stoddard in Boston. That's where I met Adam. I have two sisters." She chuckled, "We're kind of the female version of the Cartwright family. I'm the oldest; Miranda is next, and finally, Marie. I moved into my aunt's house when she left it to me in her will. Miranda moved to Boston when she married and then my folks moved there as well a few years ago when things got bad during the onset of the war."

"What happened?" Hoss asked.

"My father had an export business that arranged commodity shipments. Much of that came from the Southern states, and when the talk of fighting started, businessmen there geared up for war instead of commerce. There was no product to ship and Papa wasn't able to hold on. Fortunately, he found a position as an accountant at a firm in Boston. It was a hard adjustment for him, but he's doing well."

Joe accidently clanked his fork into his plate as he set it down, making everyone jump. With their attention on him, he sent Melinda an exaggerated smile. "I'm sure the South regrets the trouble they caused your family."

Adam opened his mouth to speak but Melinda silenced him with a touch as she looked directly at her brother-in-law and mirrored his smile. Keeping her tone relaxed, she responded, "My father never blamed anyone for what happened, Joe. He understood that there are many types of casualties in war. It seemed that everyone lost someone or something…on both sides. My sympathies were with the Union, yet I could understand many of the issues the South fought for. And because of what happened with my father, I was able to comprehend that a country divided would not work as well as a nation united in purpose. My family grieved the loss of _all_ those who bravely fought and died in their causes. From what Adam has told me that was true of the Cartwright family as well."

"You put that very eloquently, Melinda." Ben said sincerely, as he touched her hand.

Hop Sing had begun clearing dishes as Melinda spoke and he returned with dessert and coffee. He placed a slice of chocolate-glazed, custard-filled sponge cake in front of her.

She smiled up at the waiting cook. "You made Boston Cream Pie, Hop Sing? It looks delicious! Where did you find the recipe?"

"Saw in newspaper. No recipe, just tell how it made. It look like real thing?"

"It looks perfect," Adam complimented as he turned to his father. "You remember that we went to the Parker House Hotel looking for Melinda after she was kidnapped? That's where this dessert originated." He took a bite and gave his approval in an appreciative moan. "Chef Sanzian couldn't have made this any better! In fact he could learn a few things from you, Hop Sing."

The cook beamed while Hoss asked, "You know the feller who concocted this, Adam?"

"Sure, Hoss. We don't know him well, but if you visit us some time, we'll take you to his restaurant and you can show him how someone should appreciate a good meal." Adam noticed Joe rolling his eyes while shaking his head as he'd finished his comment to Hoss. The theatrics were another confirmation for Adam that there was something about the evening that wasn't sitting well with his youngest brother. Yet he didn't push him, knowing from experience that Joe could be sullen and testy one minute, and snap out of it the next. He finished his dessert without further comment, and was the first to rise when Ben suggested they take their coffee to the living area.

Adam sat with Melinda on the settee facing the others, and had a brief flashback to his oral exams in college when he had sat facing his professors. In fact he was feeling the same sort of dread as he had then, and was relieved when Hoss smiled over at him and winked. It didn't surprise him that his middle brother would understand what he was feeling. Hoss had always seemed to know when the oldest Cartwright son needed a helping hand.

Hoss asked an easy question, "How long you plannin' on stayin', Adam? Mind you, I hope it's some time before we'll be sayin' so-long again."

Adam looked at Melinda, hoping this was what they'd decided. The evening had rattled him and he wasn't sure how their timeframe would be viewed. "We can stay for a couple of weeks, Hoss, and then we're going to San Francisco. Frank asked if I'd be able to help Frank Jr. with a project for the Frisco office of Wadsworth Engineering before we head home." He looked again at his wife and took her hand as he tried to finish. "And once we're back in Boston…"

Joe broke into the announcement. "What I don't understand is if this Castelletti was dead, why did you have to leave? Why come all this way without letting us know. Things are pretty busy around here right now and we won't be able to stop what we're doing just because you're here."

Ben gave his youngest another stern look. "This will always be Adam's home, Joe. He doesn't need a reason to come here. That will be true for you and Hoss too should you decide to find your futures away from the ranch."

Adam held tightly to Melinda's hand as he addressed his brother. "That's a valid question, Joe. It would seem that the threat was over. But Castelletti had also said he'd given orders to have us all killed if anything happened to him during the project. The police and Secret Service felt it best that we leave while they ensured that his entire organization was dismantled." Turning to his father, he continued, "I suspect Joe's right about the other part of his thought as well, Pa. It would have been better to give you a little more notice that we were on the way. At the time though, I could only think of one place where we'd feel safe and wouldn't have to keep looking over our shoulders."

Hoss spoke up again. "I, for one, am very glad you decided to make the trip, Adam."

Joe ignored his father's frequent glances toward him. "So you came all the way out here to lay low? That doesn't sound like the brother I know. Don't get me wrong, I was happily surprised to see you in town today. I just wish you'd come home because you wanted to, not because you had no other option."

Ben's loud, "Joseph, that's enough of this nonsense!" was tempered by Adam's calm reply. "We had plenty of options; we _wanted_ to come here. Melinda's been pestering me to know more about the ranch, and about getting to meet you and Hoss. Coming home now seemed like our _best_ option now. We won't be able to later. Frank is sending us to London when we get back."

His father's eyes widened in surprise. "Will this be a vacation or are you going for work?"

"Work, Pa. Melinda and I agreed to the opportunity the day before I was shanghaied by Castelletti, and Frank confirmed that the job is available, the night we left Boston. I'll be working on a project in the London docks. We'll try to travel while we're there. I hope we can get to Wales, Ireland and Scotland, and maybe even some parts of the Continent before we head home again."

Joe had risen and begun pacing after his father's admonition. He was directly behind Melinda and Adam when he muttered, "I wonder what the English will think of Lord Adam," just loud enough for them to hear.

Melinda stood and pulled Adam up from the couch. "I think it's time we thank our chef again for the fine _welcome_ _home_ meal," she said as she looked directly at Joe. "Then I'm taking my husband outside so he can show me those starry Nevadan skies he always brags about."

"There really are more stars visible out here," she told Adam as she put her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder.

As they stood stargazing, Little Joe breezed past them without saying a word.

Adam gave Melinda a peck on the cheek and said, "Don't go anywhere; I'll be right back," before trotting away to catch up to his brother. He laid his hand on Joe's shoulder to stop him and asked in an easy tone, "What are you up to?"

Joe was as stiff as his words were clipped. "You're not my keeper anymore, Adam. Don't worry about what I'm doing."

"I'm not worried." He kept his hand firmly in place on his brother's shoulder, not allowing him to leave. "I only wondered if I might give you a hand with whatever's bothering you."

"Just leave me alone, Adam!" He grabbed his brother's arm, pushed it away roughly and made his getaway into the barn.

He stood speechless, rubbing the spot on his wrist where Joe had grasped it. Adam hung his head recalling a time when he had pushed his father away; rejecting the man's concern and desire to help as he'd spat out almost the same words that Joe had just uttered. Taking a lesson from how his father had handled that situation with him, Adam let his brother go. Joe had to figure out what was bothering him—and what to do about it. He breathed deeply before retracing his steps to his bride.

"What's going on with Joe? I heard him raise his voice and saw him hurry off. In fact, I'm pretty sure something was bothering him all evening."

He took her hand and led her farther away from the house. "You're right, but the kid will have to work it out."

They walked further until they reached a large, flat rock. Adam pushed the concerns from his mind as he climbed up and assisted Melinda. "We're going to lie down on our backs now to observe and listen. I'll be right next to you, but you can't snuggle up to me or you'll miss too much."

"That rock looks even harder than your bed," She teased as she chewed her lip.

"Trust me, honey, it'll be worth the sore backside."

The quiet night suddenly erupted in sound as they stopped talking and rested on the flat surface that still held the warmth from the sun. Crickets chirped, gnats buzzed, and in the distance a coyote cried, while night-birds hooted and called.

They held hands as they watched the heavens for shooting stars. Melinda cried out in delight as several flashed by while the wind whispered through the trees and brush, providing a symphony for the celestial ballet.

After many minutes, Melinda rolled onto her side and kissed Adam's cheek before returning to her back and the amazing display above them.

The two younger brothers were up with the sun and already in the barn saddling up for a day of branding out on the flat by the time the remaining Cartwrights made it down to breakfast.

"So whadya think of her, Joe?" Hoss asked with a shy, toothy smile.

"She's pretty much the thin-nosed, blue-blooded Yankee I'd assumed she'd be. Count on Adam to go back across the country to find someone like that."

Hoss dropped his saddle back onto the stall divider. "What's wrong with ya, Joe? You usually like people easy, but you were downright disagreeable with Adam and Melinda last night. From as stiff as you just got when you done answered me, things ain't changed any overnight. I think she's real nice."

Joe's face screwed up until his lips were a tight pucker. "So, you're saying I have to like her just because you do?"

"Nah, I ain't sayin' that at all. But I don't see nothing wrong with her neither. I won't never find me a gal like Melinda, but golly, Joe, the way she looks at our brother: she lights up when he walks in the room and's always holdin' his hand or touchin' his arm. It makes me long to have a wife next to me too. I remember your ma and our Pa being like that."

There was no response from the other stall as Joe worked to saddle a horse he'd brought in from the pasture to use while Cochise recovered.

"What's botherin' you, Joe?" Hoss asked again.

"It's just that," he struggled to put his thoughts into words, "I wish Adam hadn't come home."

Joe's comment made Hoss stagger as he lifted the saddle over Chubby's tall back. He faced his brother with his mouth agape and eyes popping. "Why on earth would you even think that, much less say it?"

"Pa can't handle his coming and going. He knows Adam isn't staying, but Pa'll get to thinking that maybe he might. Then he'll mope for months again when Adam leaves, making us work even harder until he feels better."

"That ain't true and you know it," Hoss reprimanded, "and don't you let Pa hear you say that. When Adam left for school, Pa did pine for some time, but when he left for Boston a year or so back, Pa saw it as a good move. You weren't back from Sacramento before Adam had to leave, but Pa did just fine. And when Pa got back after being in Boston, he was excited for all Adam was doin' there. Our Pa's a different man now, Joe. He understands that we're grown and have to make our own lives—whether that's here or somewheres else."

Joe grunted.

"So," Hoss prompted, "if there's truth in what you just said about hating that Adam came home and it's not about Pa, then what is it about?"

"He's just so different than us, Hoss. I don't know how we ever got along with him."

Hoss guffawed. "Well, ain't you just stepped on a horse-apple of truth."

"What do you mean by that? Dang it, did I step in something bringing this mare inside?" Joe checked his boots but found nothing amiss."

"Stop checkin' for manure. I'm talking metaphorically."

Joe's mouth hung open. "How do you even know a word like that?"

"Adam taught it to me years back and I guess it's been turnin' around in my head waiting for a chance to use it. I mean that a'course Adam is different from us. First off, he's been around the longest and bore the most responsibility. He pulled his weight from the time my ma died and he never got to be a kid—least ways not like you and me did. Adam's smart as a whip and has always figured things out better and faster than either of us could. He is who he is, Joe. He never apologized for that, nor lorded it over us none neither. And when it comes down to it, little brother, you and I ain't exactly alike neither. We get along because I usually let you have your way about things. I ain't sayin' that I have bad feelings about that; it's just the truth."

"So where do the horse apples come in?"

"There ain't nothing wrong with horse apples, is there? We spread them on the field and they help the hay grow. They's a fact of life when you got livestock and they're no big deal until you step on one and start smellin' it. It don't change what they are; you just have to deal with it—scrape it off yer boot and move on."

"And how does this apply to me and Adam?"

"Most times you and Adam got along fine. The fact that the two of you thought different, liked doin' different things, and handled things different didn't make no matter. You each went out and made the world a little better by being who you were. But sometimes you didn't see eye-to-eye and irritated each other, and then things started to stink like you stepped in a pile of brotherly muck. You and Adam had lots of times like that, but you cleaned off yer boots and went on as brothers."

"Sometimes you're a whole lot smarter than you look," Joe laughed as he tossed a handful of straw at him.

Hoss wasn't finished, "That brings me back to the original question. What's Adam done that's stuck on yer boot?"

The brothers' conversation had them so involved that they hadn't heard the house door close or the footsteps coming across the yard. Adam had finished eating and was coming out to hitch up a buggy to take his wife for a tour of the Ponderosa. As he'd neared the barn, he'd heard the conversation going on inside and hesitated. He smiled at Hoss's description of being brothers, and then really wanted to hear Joe's answer to what was bothering him.

"He's being Adam, I guess," Joe began. "I mean he comes waltzing home, expecting us to fall all over him. Of course he's doing well—he always has. And of course he saved Melinda and foiled a plot against the United States because he's so blasted smart. I won't ever be able to figure things the way what Adam can, and now he's going to England so they can sing his praises there too. Maybe I'm just sick to death of hearing about how wonderful our older brother is. I got enough to do around here without having to do any more bowing to the better man."

The hurt look had returned to Hoss's face and voice. "I don't get you, Joe. Adam don't want to be treated any different than he ever did. He never took praise easy and always carried his burdens quiet-like. And he didn't come here to bother you none. He came to find some peace…a safe place where he could let his guard down a little. It was there in his words if you'd listened instead of grousing all evening."

Joe scoffed, "Adam needs a place to put his guard down? You can't mean that. Why, he's as full of himself as he ever was. You wouldn't believe what I heard him and his Yankee bride doing last night."

Hoss looked horrified. "You mind your manners. I'm not sure what you're about ta say, but I think you should think long and hard before going any further."

Adam completed his walk into the barn. "It's all right, Hoss, I'd like to know just what Joe thought he heard."

"Sure, I'll tell you." Joe seemed unaffected by Adam showing up in the middle of his tirade. He left the stall to stand closer to his oldest brother. "Hoss just said you don't lord your success over us, but he's dead wrong on that one, isn't he, Adam? Sometimes you just need to _prove_ how much more you have."

Adam's eyebrows rose under his hat brim as his lips drew to the side. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Joe's wild laugh echoed to the rafters. "You have no idea? How about this…I heard Melinda screaming out your name around midnight. I guess bringing home a beautiful, smart wife wasn't enough to shove in my face…you had to bed her in the room next to mine so I'd have to _hear_ what a better man you are too."

The right hook Adam laid across Joe's cheek sent him sprawling. As he scrabbled to his feet he raised his fists for a fight, but Hoss stood in front of him. "You had that comin', Joe. Stand down."

Adam had already begun to leave the barn when he turned to face his youngest brother again. "If this was about me, I'd walk out of here without another word, but I don't want you spreading ugliness about Melinda; she doesn't deserve it." He scrubbed at his face and breathed deeply before beginning. "When Melinda was kidnapped, she was chloroformed and taken to a brothel. She awoke in pitch darkness on a filthy mattress, unable to move because she was tied to the bed frame. She could hear rats running across the floor and chewing inside the walls next to the bed and was sure they would find her too. She still has nightmares about it. We leave a lamp burning when we travel, but it went out last night and she woke up in the dark." His voice dropped. "She was screaming in terror."

The older brother composed himself as Joe continued to stare at his boots. Once his anger abated, Adam continued, "When I suggested we come here, I figured that you and Hoss wouldn't want to hear my advice, and that I'd have to wait for a clear indication of how I could best help out." He paused until Joe looked up, "The one thing I never considered was that you'd wished I'd stayed away." He turned and walked toward the house.

"Go after him, Joe." Hoss's tone left no room for interpretation.

"Why should I? I'm sorry about misunderstanding the situation last night, but I'd say he understands how I feel about this visit. He'll stick his chin out and go on like nothing happened. You know Adam."

"How can he go on like nothin' happened? You didn't throw a punch, but I'm pretty certain his gut feels like it was trampled by a herd of longhorns about now." Hoss finished adjusting his saddle and led Chubby to the door. "I'm leavin' now, and I don't rightly want your company on the way. I'll see you out there, but stay clear a me today, ya hear?"

Adam smiled at his father as he entered the house. His heart was still racing from the conversation outside, and he felt like he'd had the wind knocked out of him. "Mind if interrupt you for a minute, Pa?"

"Sure. I'm just starting a list of people we should invite to the reception for you and Melinda. I know you hate big affairs, so we'll keep it to a reasonable crowd." He grinned up at his son.

Moving a chair to the desk, Adam sat and laid his arms on the shining surface. He and his father had talked many things out across this desk in the past. Now there was something he had to say that he knew wouldn't sit well. "About that, Pa…I know I said we'd be here for a couple of weeks, but in thinking it through, I believe we'll have to get going sooner."

"How much sooner?"

"I'd say by week's end." He saw his father's face drop, the deep lines of age forming parentheses around his mouth as he frowned. "I was thinking we could invite a few people to a get-together at the International House on Friday evening." His voice faltered for an instant, but he cleared his throat and continued, "Melinda and I will stay in town that night and head to San Francisco on the Saturday morning stage."

Ben's voice was calm while rising in pitch, "It's Tuesday already. That means you'll be leaving in three days. What changed?"

"I realize that we've intruded into the busiest time on the ranch. I'll take a day or two to show Melinda around, and then we'll be out from underfoot. It'll be better this way."

Ben eyed his son. "Better for whom?

Adam's eyes were focused on the wall behind his father. He knew he couldn't lie while looking at him. "Everyone, I expect." He swept the room with his gaze and finally stared at his hands. He hadn't planned what he was about to say. It had come as a flash giving him an alternative to be with his father while placating Joe. "I was wondering… I know it's a busy time, but I was hoping you could get away and come to San Francisco for a few days. Hoss and Joe can run things here. I read in the Chronicle that there's a visiting Viennese orchestra doing Bach's Brandenburg Concertos. You've always liked Bach." He was beginning to babble, but he kept on going rather than allow his father a chance to ask any more questions about why he was leaving so soon. "The Brandenburg pieces weren't discovered until around 1850, so they haven't been widely performed. I'd like to hear them with you, and we could spend more time together before Melinda and I head off again."

"Don't think I haven't noticed that you aren't looking at me, son. There's a whole lot more to this change of plan than you're saying. Did something happen with your brothers?"

"I was honest in what I told you," the son pronounced as he made eye contact. "Call it a case of bad timing and nothing more. I realize how hard it is to worry about guests when there's so much to get done."

Little Joe had finished saddling his horse and then had headed to the house to find his brother, intending to apologize for misinterpreting the previous night's situation. He knew he'd overstepped a boundary there, but as for the rest, he wasn't about to change his opinion.

As he neared the door, he heard the voices of his father and brother through the open windows above the desk. He hadn't intended on eavesdropping, but he figured that since Adam had taken that privilege outside the barn, there was nothing wrong about him listening now. The last thing he wanted to do was walk into a brouhaha where he'd have to defend himself without knowing what had been said. He cringed as he heard the growing sadness in his father's voice, knowing that _he_ was the cause of it.

"You are not a guest who needs to be dealt with, Adam," Ben said loudly as he slapped the surface of the desk. "You are my son! This is your home! You are welcome anytime for as long as you want to stay!"

"I know that. But the truth is that things don't remain locked in time. People change; situations change." He smiled and rose to forestall another round of fatherly interrogation. "Will you at least consider San Francisco?"

Ben slumped back into his green leather chair. "I don't know what happened between breakfast and now." He gave his eldest a lopsided smile. "I know I won't ever get you to reveal what prompted your change of plans, so let me see if I can work things out to be gone for a few days. I'll let you know by tomorrow."

Melinda had heard Ben's raised voice and was coming down the steps to see if something was wrong just as Little Joe entered from outside. She looked from the two men near the desk to the one at the door and knew from their stiff postures and set faces that something was going on that involved all three men. She lied, "Excuse me, I thought I heard Adam call for me." She looked at her husband and said, "Why don't you come up and get me when you're finished," and then turned to go back to their room.

"Don't go, Melinda," Joe called after her. "You need to hear this too." He waited until she descended and was standing next to Adam before saying, "Pa, you go right on ahead and plan that party."

"Adam told me that they won't be here long enough for that." He eyed his youngest with a steely glare. "Am I to assume that you are the reason for the shortened stay?"

Joe leaned back against the credenza and shoved his hat back on his head as he chewed on his cheek. "I suspect I am. Adam overheard me saying some ugly things in the barn a little bit ago and then I told him that I didn't cotton to his being here."

Ben gasped. "Is that true, Adam?" The eldest son remained silent and Ben turned a wounded look on his youngest, "Why on earth? What would possess you…where do you get the right to say who is welcome in my house? I noticed that you weren't yourself last night, but I hoped it was as Hoss had said—that you'd had a trying day or that you were testing Adam's ability to hold his temper amid a little brotherly foolery. But to continue this nonsense today to the point where he believes they aren't welcome…"

"He's entitled to his opinion, Pa." Adam spoke up as he saw Joe withering under Ben's stare. "I told you; life doesn't remain as it was. No one is forcing us to go. We'll leave on Friday and then things can get back to normal."

Melinda wasn't sure what had prompted Adam to cut short their stay but she felt the rigidity of the muscles as she touched her husband's arm, and recognized the tense set of his jaw. As she turned toward Ben, she noticed that his face was red and set in an angry scowl directed toward his youngest son. When her gaze finally made it to Joe, she thought he actually appeared to be shrinking under the weight of his father's tacit rage. Her conclusion was that whatever was going on belonged between the two brothers and wouldn't be worked out with their father in the room. She walked over to Ben and took his hand, giving him a knowing look and a head-nod toward outside. The set of his jaw slackened as he followed her to the door. She told the two brothers, "Ben's going to show me how to saddle a horse for the buggy while you two talk." Looking back over her shoulder, she added, "Don't take all day though, I want to see this ranch."

"You sure did marry yourself a city girl," Joe laughed once the door was closed.

Adam chuckled too as the pressure broke. "Did she just say they were going to 'saddle' a horse for the buggy?"

Joe's laugh had moved to a giggle as he walked toward his brother. He was suddenly serious again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know about Melinda and that…place. And I should have known that you would never… I don't know what got into me. Whatever it is must be bad because Hoss didn't even want to be around me."

"I accept your apology, and I won't say anything to Melinda. And while I wish it didn't bother me that you don't want me here, you owe me no explanations."

Adam was moving toward the door to join the others outside when Joe said, "It's complicated."

"I'm sure it is," the older brother agreed, pausing with his hand on the latch.

"I think that once I got over you being gone for good, it sort of made me feel free. You know what I mean?"

Adam nodded. "No big brother looking over your shoulder. People stopped comparing my methods to yours. You got to be your own man."

"Exactly."

Adam folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door. "And then when I showed up unexpectedly, you worried that those comparisons would start up again, or worse, I might decide to stick around and you'd go back to being, 'Little' Joe?"

"Pretty much."

"You should know that Pa practically busts his buttons when he talks about you and Hoss."

"He does?"

Adam walked to the desk and perched on the edge. "I know that selling timber isn't as simple as it was when I started doing it. There's more land available now for harvesting and a lot more men in the business, so you're negotiating under a whole new set of circumstances. And you're still pulling in as much work as the ranch can handle. I could write one huge contract that would keep us busy for two years. Now you bid smaller, more complicated work, and have to come up with new ways to keep the Ponderosa competitive. The good old boys of Pa's era are moving out of the business and it's being taken over by young, smart guys like you. Pa knows that."

"Thanks." Joe joined his brother, planting himself on his father's desk.

"It's true. Hoss is doing a great job with the stock too. Pa says the herd has never been so good. I may have gotten things started around here, but you two are doing a great job of making it even better."

Joe smiled wryly as a deep blush enveloped his face. "There's something else, but you gotta promise you won't make fun of me." Adam nodded, and he continued, "I wasn't home when you left last time. I know you had to make connections and couldn't wait, and you did leave that _really_ long letter for me… But when I got home there was nothing left of you. Sport's stall was empty; your room was stripped except for your old guitar and a few books."

"That's what usually happens when someone moves out," Adam chuckled as he tried to ease Joe into telling the significance of that incident.

"Maybe that's true, but it seemed more like you'd died. Pa and Hoss had already dealt with your leaving, but…" Joe paused, trying to find the right word. "Something about me was missing too and I couldn't talk to anyone about it. I think I wasn't so happy to see you because I don't want to go through that again."

The older man draped an arm around his kid brother. "I know how that feels, Joe. It isn't any easier in Boston."


	2. In Search of Safety Part 2

**Part 2**

 **More Unexpected Company**

 **One – Being Home**

"I never got the chance to ask earlier; how'd it go with you and Pa taking the reception invitations around today?" Adam asked as they settled into bed on Friday night.

"I think it went well, and it gave me a chance to meet a few of the people who'll be coming next week."

"What did you and Pa talk about all day?"

"Mostly about the ranch and stories about you and your brothers. He did ask a few questions about your experience with Castelletti. I assume he thinks you held back information so as not to worry him."

"I don't think I did. Were you able to ease his concerns?"

"Yup. I also think he was glad that you and Joe were able to come to an understanding. He did press me, ever so gently and slyly, to get the facts about what happened between you two, but I claimed ignorance."

He pulled her close. "Thanks for that. I don't think Joe even told Hoss the reason: he just said we'd worked it out. Unlike Pa, that was enough for Hoss."

Melinda yawned as she snuggled into her favorite sleeping spot under Adam's arm with her head resting on his chest where she could hear his heart beat as she drifted off.

"So what time is this affair next Wednesday?" Adam yawned too as he got caught up in his wife's sleepiness.

"It's set for mid-day. Ben feels that will give people enough time to do morning chores or errands and then head over for a picnic lunch. He thinks the whole thing should last only an hour or two as people eat and head back for evening chores." She wrapped her arm around his chest and chuckled. "You country folk sure do set your lives around your chores."

"It's a fact of life, honey. Livestock and farm animals get very testy when they aren't tended to in a timely manner, and there's no way to catch up if you get behind."

Melinda's, "I suppose that's true," was whispered as her eyes closed. A soft, breathy snore soon replaced the silence in the room as she drifted off.

Adam thought about the last couple of days as he settled for sleep. After the tension with Joe had eased, his youngest brother's natural humor had returned along with Hoss's long-suffering participation in their pranks. The two brothers had resorted to some old favorites in testing the eldest sibling's patience. There'd been giggling and snorting and a dozen simple ways of making Adam's life miserable, testifying to the fact that he was still part of the family.

Adam had taught Melinda about box canyons, Nevadan wildlife, and Sierra wildflowers as they'd explored what they could see by buggy or short walks off the beaten path. They'd even stopped at camp where he'd introduced her to the drovers he'd worked with. After that, he'd spent an hour cringing as Hugh had told her stories about "Young" Cartwright's trials as a greenhorn cow hand.

When he wasn't with Melinda, Adam helped out any way he could. He spent a few hours each day fixing fences, riding herd or helping with maintenance chores. When he'd returned home yesterday, he'd found his wife busy in the kitchen with Hop Sing. She'd helped cook dinner after a morning of baking cookies for the party. Hop Sing had even helped her make a caramelized sugar cake that was Adam's favorite.

With the fresh air and busyness at the ranch, it came as no surprise that he and Melinda were in bed and sound asleep shortly after dark most nights.

As Adam's breathing took on the same rhythm as his wife's, he had a last memory about that day's activities. Melinda had given him a sly look and asked that he teach her how to shoot his Colt, saying that she'd always wanted to learn how to handle a gun. They'd first gone over the Ben Cartwright firearm safety-speech that each son had to endure before laying a hand on a pistol, and then had spent an hour learning how to aim and shoot at cans and bottles. He'd been surprised at how quickly his wife had adapted to handling the weapon.

In thinking of all they'd already done, it felt like they'd been there much longer than five days, and he found himself looking forward to the remainder of their time: in many ways he wished he could slow down its passing.

 **Two – The Problem of Defining "Family"**

"You did what?" Ben demanded of Hoss. "Why would she want to stay with us anyway? She must have heard that Adam and Melinda were here as soon as she stepped off the stage."

Hoss's cheeks grew pink as he related the news from town to his father. "She knew." His face scrunched in thought. "In fact, I think she seemed mighty excited about just that fact. Made me wonder what she had in mind."

"And you still invited her out here?"

While Hoss would never consider lying to his father, telling Ben Cartwright the truth could often bring a goodly amount of discomfort too. The big man looked downward as he ground the toe of his boot into the dust and kicked a gray cloud into the atmosphere above his feet while building his courage to explain the situation. "I gave her every excuse I could come up with when she started hintin' at stayin' out here. I told her it would be better to be at the hotel 'cuz she'd be closer to town for this wedding she said she'd come for. Then I said things was pretty hectic with all the summer chores, and the house being crowded with Adam and Melinda here. But she got all teary-eyed relatin' how she'd planned to stay with the friend that was getting married, but how she found out those plans had changed when she got here, and she hadn't brought enough money along to pay for lodging."

"You should have offered to pay for the hotel! That would have solved everything." Ben looked off in the distance. "Looks like a dust cloud on the road out there. Must be a good sized wagon coming."

Hoss broke into his father's musing, "I said I'd pay! I even offered to carry her bags there, but she said that you'd once told them they was _family_ to us and she would rather stay with family than in a stuffy hotel." More shuffling accompanied Hoss's final thought as the dust cloud swirled closer. "I 'spect that's her under that cloud a dust since she said she'd be right along. I'll move into the bunk house so there's more room in the house."

Ben gave his son a wide-eyed look of horror. "You'll do no such thing! She and her daughter can share the room downstairs. I don't want her staying anywhere near Melinda and Adam." He gave an involuntary shiver. "We'll have to make do somehow since I can hardly kick her out. It figures she'd invoke _family rights_."

While concentrating on the wagon approaching from town, Hoss and Ben had missed the other one nearing from the opposite direction. The wagon with Adam, Melinda and Joe arrived first with its three wet, windblown, laughing passengers returning from a Saturday afternoon fishing trip.

Melinda held a fish-laden stick aloft proudly as she proclaimed. "I caught most of these, but had to let the two gentlemen get some or they would have been surly all evening." She was barefoot, and the bottom third of her dress was soaked. Smoothing out her wet skirt after Adam helped her down, she began giggling. "I got so excited when I was pulling in my first catch that I jumped in to grab it so it wouldn't get away."

"I'll admit, she has a knack for catching fish," Joe sighed. "With her constant chattering, I thought sure she'd scare everything away, but I think those poor trout finally took the hook in desperation so they wouldn't have to listen to her anymore."

When Adam failed to control his laughter at Joe's comment, Melinda gave him a none-too-gentle jab and reminded him where his loyalty should lie. When he finally stopped laughing, he tipped his head as he recognized the sound of a wagon entering the yard on the far side of the barn. "Sounds like we're getting company."

"We should tell you about that…" Ben's warning came an instant too late, and he watched his oldest son's face pale as he registered the identities of the "company." The father said quickly, "She met Hoss in town earlier and said she had no place to stay. He couldn't refuse her request to put them up."

The wagon pulled to a stop and Adam went to assist the passengers. "Laura…Peggy," he said as he helped them down. "What brings you to Virginia City?"

"We came for Ginny Marshall's wedding tomorrow," Laura answered with a bright smile. "We were going to stay with her, but she has unexpected company filling her place. When I saw Hoss in town, I took it as a sign that we should come out here. After all, we are family now, and Peggy will love being at the ranch." She looked around at the blank faces staring at her. "I hope our being here won't be…uncomfortable for you."

Adam gave Peggy a hug, commenting on how much she had grown since last seeing her. Turning to Laura he continued, "I admit I'm surprised to see you, but you are always welcome. Are you and Peggy traveling alone or is Will still in town?"

"It's just the two of us." Her voice trailed off as Laura's gaze strayed to the other woman in the yard, giving her a once-over that included a fleeting grin as she observed the wet dress, messy hair, dirty feet, and string of fish. Her face settled into a fawning smile as her nose twitched. "You must be Melinda?" she said as she took a step closer. "All anyone in town is talking about is how beautiful and stylish you are." She chuckled, "I'm assuming they haven't gotten to know this side of you."

Melinda laughed at Laura's comment, and then issued her own greeting. "I'm glad to meet you too, Laura. It should be interesting for each of us to get to know the real woman behind the chatter."

Ben stepped in to usher the two newest guests toward the house, saying. "Uh, why don't I show you to your room. You can get settled while we let the fishermen get cleaned up for dinner."

Adam glared at Hoss once Laura was inside. "Did Pa say that _you_ invited her out here?"

"I had no choice. She kind a wrapped me up in my own words until I heard myself extendin' the invitation."

Adam released a long sigh and said, "She does have that ability," before bowing to Melinda and adopting a heavy British accent. "I say, my dear, this damp, muddy-footed look becomes you. I don't think I've ever seen you look more beautiful and stylish."

"I agree." Joe added, "I've always admired a woman who can catch fish and isn't afraid to jump in with both feet." He grabbed Melinda's hand, led her to the watering trough, lifted her up and dunked her feet in for a rinse before carrying her to a chair by the house. "There, I've done what I can. The rest is up to you."

Adam pulled a handkerchief from his pocket with a flourish, proclaiming, "I shall spare nothing to assure your comfort, my lady." He dried her feet while adding, "I wish only that I had a cloak of velvet to use instead of this common cloth."

Hoss laughed as he grabbed the fish Melinda had abandoned by the trough, and finally joined in the antics, saying, "I shall take your bountiful catch to the cook, my lady," while bending in an awkward sort of curtsy.

Both Adam and Joe stared at their brother. "That was great, Hoss!" the oldest offered. "Since when have you become such a fine actor?"

"Shucks," he said, while blazing red from neck to forehead, "I done heard you talk like that so much over the years it weren't nothin' to ham it up a little."

"I declare that I am the most fortunate lady in the land!" Melinda rose and gave each brother a peck on the cheek. "Now off with you and let me to my beautification rituals." She stopped to sniff her hands as she began walking to the door. "Whew! I smell like dead fish!" She laughed, saying more quietly to herself, "No wonder Laura looked like she thought I was wearing Eau de Poisson." Returning to the men, she gave notice. "I'm getting my things and shall have the first bath…before I stink up the whole house."

Laura had laid the curtain of the downstairs guestroom back just enough to watch the brothers and the new addition to the Cartwright family laughing and carrying on outside her window. Her cheeks flushed at first, and then paled as her lips thinned to a fine line while her eyes went dark. She turned back as Peggy asked her a question, and quietly began telling her daughter exactly what she thought about the woman Adam Cartwright had married.

That evening, the extended family of Cartwrights dined on a feast of fried fish and chicken. Melinda was starving from her day in the fresh air and found to her own chagrin that she was eating twice what the wispy Laura was consuming. _No wonder her waist is the size of a sapling_ , she thought as she grinned behind her napkin. _I would probably break her in half if I accidentally sat on her_. She was glad to leave such thoughts behind when Hoss brought up the topic of their fishing trip.

"So you really caught most of these tasty little fellers, Melinda?"

"I sure did. Adam and Joe were too busy 'talking' about fishing while I was actually doing it."

Peggy asked shyly, "Did you bait your own hooks?"

"I did, but not with worms. Hop Sing sent along a package of bread dough balls. He said it was Hoss's bait of choice and I admit the fish seemed to like it. I did take my own fish off the hook." She sniffed at her hands. "Unfortunately that smell lingers on even after a hot bath and strong soap."

Joe offered, "I caught the biggest fish, but it got off the hook just as I was pulling it in."

"That's the story of your life, little brother," Hoss laughed. "Seems you tell that same yarn whether it's about fishin' or losin' the affection of a young lady."

While Little Joe was still sputtering, Melinda asked, "How is school going for you, Peggy?"

"I hate it!" Peggy spat and then blushed. "I was out for a while and got held back when I started again, so now I'm with younger kids and they're awful to me."

"How so?" Adam asked with a kindly look toward the youngster.

"They call me dumb and tease me about my father being..."

Laura looked panicked as she quickly laid a hand on her daughter's arm and shushed her. "I'm sure the Cartwrights don't want to hear about your problems, honey."

Adam noted a look of warning directed at him from his father, as he asked, "Where is Will, Laura, and why is Peggy lagging behind in school?"

Her eyes narrowed and a sour look accompanied her well-rehearsed explanation. "Will travels for work and will be away for a time now. And the job Will thought he had when we married didn't work out, so we were in Los Angeles for a little while before moving back to San Francisco. I tried to teach Peggy while we moved around, but she did fall behind."

Melinda smiled over at the youngster. "You look like a bright young lady, Peggy. I'll bet that if you worked with a tutor over the summer months, you could be advanced to your class."

Peggy looked to her mother who responded with a tight smile. "I'll check into it when we get back. Thank you for the suggestion."

Adam noted Laura's increasing tension, musing that if she gripped her fork any tighter it was likely to shatter into splinters of metal that would impale all of them. He changed the topic. "I like the way you're wearing your hair, Laura. It becomes you."

She patted the chignon. "Thank you," she smiled graciously while her posture…and grip relaxed. "It seemed to be time for a change in the style, and my hair doesn't have a natural wave like Melinda's seems to. It was a chore to keep curling it."

Melinda had secured her hair away from her face, but left it hanging in loose waves down her back after washing it earlier. She chuckled while twirling her finger through a wisp that framed her face. "I appreciate the curliness now, but when I was Peggy's age, I wanted long straight hair like the other girls."

Little Joe spoke in a high falsetto, "Oh, dear me, Adam, your hair is simply di-vine tonight, and Hoss, I've never seen you look lovelier."

Peggy had drained her glass of milk as Joe began talking and started to giggle so hard that she blew it out her nose. Laura grabbed a napkin to mop her daughter's chin while clucking at her table manners, and then looked up and winked at Melinda. "I think that's Joe's way of telling us the gentlemen would like to speak of other things."

Hoss rose to assist Laura from the table while nodding his head toward the door as he glanced over at Adam. "Say, brother, I'd like your opinion on Cochise's leg. He looked fine this morning when I brought him home from town, but I saw him favoring it again just before supper. In fact, maybe Pa and Joe should come along. If we have to do some doctorin' we might need help to hold him firm."

Peggy volunteered, "I'll come too, Hoss. I know a lot about horses."

"Thanks, Peggy, I'm sure you do, but it's not safe for ya to be out there right now. You and I'll take a look tomorrow."

The men headed for the barn while the women adjourned to the sitting area. Melinda suggested, "I noticed you had a book with you when you arrived today, Peggy. Why don't you get that and read to us. I'd like that a lot."

 **Three – Confessions**

Adam bid his father goodnight in the hall and entered his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. "Well, that's not how I expected the day to end," he chuckled as he came toward Melinda. "I'm sorry about this business with Laura."

"It's been fine, Adam, don't worry." She smiled and locked him in a hug. "Laura and I had a pleasant conversation after Peggy drifted off on the settee and you men were still out in the barn. I wish I could say she was awful, but she's…nice."

"Well, that's good."

"I got the feeling that she has something on her mind, but so far all she talked about was going to the wedding tomorrow. In fact, she asked if we'd take Peggy home with us after church. The ceremony is right after the service with a lunch following at the International House. Laura feels that Peggy would do better out here rather than trying to be a proper young lady all day."

"Oh…" he stammered. "I told Joe that I'd ride out and help him decide about harvesting a stand of trees. We can reschedule that later in the week."

"You'll do no such thing! I'm capable of handling one ten-year-old girl. In fact I'll enjoy it. I can do a few assessments without her even knowing that she's being tested and perhaps pinpoint where she might be having the most trouble in school." She grinned up at him. "Now tell me what you men had to talk about that you didn't want us to hear. I overheard Joe tell you that Cochise was back to normal just before we sat down to dinner."

He led her to the bed and sat. "It's not a pretty tale. You saw how tense Laura got when I asked about Will?" She nodded. "Pa told us it was probably because Will's in jail for forging checks from the place he worked."

Melinda's eyes rounded as her mouth gaped. "How'd Ben find out?"

"Will's lawyer notified Pa when he was charged a couple of weeks ago. Hoss and Joe didn't know about it either since they were away at the time. The attorney said that if Will could refund the money, the company he worked for wouldn't press charges."

"Did Ben help?"

"Pa paid for his attorney, but nothing more." Seeing his wife's brows rise in question, he explained. "When Laura and Will left here after their wedding, they had a large sum of cash. We purchased Laura's ranch and resold it later so they could get going to that job Will said was waiting. Along with the sizable wedding gift Pa gave them, there should have been plenty for a fresh start. But from what that lawyer told Pa, there's no money left."

"What a shame," Melinda said softly.

"I suspect that her reaction at dinner was because Laura hasn't told Peggy where Will really is, and didn't want us saying something or asking questions that might let the cat out of the bag."

She shook her head slowly. "Even if Laura won't admit it, Peggy knows. Kids have a sense when something isn't right."

"That was true about Frank Dayton's death too. Peggy had figured out that her father wasn't coming home, but Laura allowed her to hope that it wasn't true."

"I'm assuming that others do know the truth about Will, and Peggy's denial of what those children were saying at school gave them fodder to tease her even more. Children in that situation get so confused. They think their parents are the ones who need protecting." Melinda thought for a moment and finally asked, "So why do _you_ think Laura is here?"

"I think she came for the wedding, but with Laura there's probably more to it than that. Pa thinks she might have finagled Hoss into bringing her out here because she was curious about you, but just as probably, she wants to elicit a little sympathy and financial support."

"Would he give her money?"

"He'll decide after hears what she has to say." He watched as his wife's face changed from concern to a slight grin, making him chuckle. "I assume that we are now moving on to the deeper questions of the evening?"

She hemmed a bit and finally said, "I wonder what you'd think about some of the men that I kept company with while we were apart? Like Laura, they were all 'nice,' and I truly cared for some of them. But I don't think I was suited to them any more than you seem suited to her. _Did_ you two have common interests?"

"There was Peggy's welfare for one. But other than making her ranch do better and wanting the best for Peggy, we were as different as night and day. We both had dreams, but we approached them differently. I'm a pragmatist and worked to get what I wanted, while Laura always 'hoped' her dreams would come true—and then became impatient when it didn't happen soon enough. I've told you before that I had decided not to go through with the wedding even before she and Will admitted their attraction to each other. It would have been a colossal mistake for both of us."

"Did you ever figure out what made you propose? I remember our talk in Sacramento when I told you then that it sounded like you were describing someone you wanted to hire as a housekeeper more than someone you wanted to marry."

"Pa and I talked about that before I left for Boston. He speculated that we all had fallen into a similar rut and wondered if our attitudes toward how we handled the ranch had begun to flow over into our personal lives."

Melinda blinked several times as she considered what her husband had just said. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Times weren't always good for the Cartwrights, but we eventually prospered…greatly. In the lean years, Pa had to rely on the kindness of friends and strangers to make it through. He hammered into us boys that we had to repay that in similar generosity to others. We never allowed people to _take_ what we had worked to get, but when asked, we helped in any way we could. We protected those who needed it, and fought to make this part of the country better for everyone."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Your desire to assist those who needed help in general, may have led you to court women with similar needs?"

"That's it, I guess. Little Joe was still young and fell in and out of love week-to-week, but Pa, Hoss and I seemed to go after women who were in difficult situations, or we tried to give them a better life than the one they had. In a few instances we even tried to save them from their mistakes."

"I can see where that could seem like love at first, but it stood little chance of growing into the real thing. It's hard to just love someone when there's so much expectation." Melinda slid her arm around his waist. "I think that's what you're saying about you and Laura."

He sighed. "I got to know her shortly after Frank Dayton died. It didn't take long to see how much trouble she was in. I think at first Laura saw my help as interference, yet in time, she learned a lot and did better. Our working together made us into a couple, and I'll admit that it was nice to spend time with Peggy and Laura. It didn't take long though before speculation as to whether we would marry began to overwhelm the 'niceness' of it. Pa told me that it wasn't fair to continue seeing her if I wasn't going to move forward."

"Did you feel that Ben was pushing you toward marriage?"

"No. He was only voicing what others were saying, and he honestly couldn't tell how I felt about her. It's a long story but I think I finally proposed to save Laura from having to leave Virginia City with an aunt of hers who had tried to force us together, and then insisted that Laura move to her home when I didn't propose fast enough." Adam looked up as he completed his thoughts and saw that Melinda's eyes were welling with tears. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. "I'm sorry. I know that my engagement hurt you deeply."

"No, that's not it at all. I love you more than ever for your honesty. I've always wondered what happened, but didn't want to pry. But with the current circumstances, I'm thankful to know a little more." She pursed her lips and closed her eyes before finally looking directly at him. "What bothers me is that since you had fallen into a habit of caring for women who needed your help more than your love, I'm wondering what you saw in me that needed 'saving.' I hadn't even considered that might have been the reason you came back." A tear escaped down her cheek.

He kissed away the salty drop and touched the necklace she always wore. "When I saw you in Sacramento, you were wearing this locket—the one I gave you all those years ago. I knew it held a small paper I'd penned with the words, _For love's sake only_." He began to recite,

 _"_ _If thou must love me, let it be for nought_

 _Except for love's sake only. Do not say,_

 _"I love her for her smile—her look—her way_

 _Of speaking gently,—for a trick of thought_

 _That falls in well with mine, and certes brought_

 _A sense of pleasant ease on such a day"—_

 _"_ Melinda put her fingers to his lips, and continued on,

 _"_ _For these things in themselves, Belovèd, may_

 _Be changed, or change for thee—and love, so wrought,_

 _May be unwrought so. Neither love me for_

 _Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry:_

 _A creature might forget to weep, who bore_

 _Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!_

 _But love me for love's sake, that evermore_

 _Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity."_

He said softly, "When I returned to the Ponderosa after seeing you again, I found my mind constantly returning to those words. I realized it was only when I had been with you that I had felt the kind of love that Elizabeth Barrett Browning had described. The uncertainty I'd fought against for so long dissolved the day I decided to go back to Boston and hoped to find you still waiting for me." He raised her chin to look into her eyes. "The truth is that your love saved me."

 **Four – It's Raining Cats and Dogs…or at Least Cats**

After church, Adam and Joe headed out on horseback to check the stand of trees for logging, and while Ben went to have Sunday lunch with the elders from the congregation, Hoss took Peggy and Melinda back to the ranch.

The three at the Ponderosa took their lunch outside on the porch to make a picnic of it, and then changed out of their church clothes to have some fun. Melinda had taken Hoss aside before the trip into town and asked that he help her with some games she'd devised. She was able to accomplish a good deal of analysis with Hoss playing along, pretending not to know the answers to give Peggy a chance to show what she could do.

After a rest and a cool glass of water, Hoss announced that he had to go out and check with the hands before supper. He winked at Peggy. "If yer really quiet and don't go to upsettin' the mama cat none, you can climb up into the loft and see the new litter of kittens she's got hidden up there."

Peggy squealed with delight, "Can I really, Hoss. I promise I'll be real quiet."

"You be sure you are," he cautioned, "that mama cat is kind of a wild thing but she'll be nice enough if you don't frighten her."

Adam and Joe rode into an empty yard and took care of their horses before heading inside. They found Peggy huddled on the end of settee, and Hop Sing holding a cloth to Melinda's face while she sat on a chair in the dining area. Adam stopped for a moment, looking from the child over to the ministrations taking place and asked, "What's going on?" before walking over to his wife. He reared back and gasped when the cook removed the compress, revealing angry looking gashes across Melinda's forehead, face and neck. Taking a closer look, Adam found similar slashes on her scalp, and beneath the torn fabric of her dress on her arms and chest. "What happened?" he asked again. There was no way for him to offer physical comfort without causing pain so he squatted next to her and took her hand.

"I was in a brawl with a cat." Melinda tried to laugh but drew in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.

Joe joined his brother in assessing the damage. "Boy-oh-boy, it got you good. I bet that hurts something awful."

"It does," she agreed and then motioned Joe nearer as she whispered, "Please take Peggy outside so I can talk to Adam."

"Sure thing." He walked to the settee and extended his hand. "C'mon, short-stuff. Let's go outside. You can help me plant the seedlings Adam and I brought back with us. We sure don't want to stay inside and listen to Melinda carry on when Hop Sing starts slathering his ointment on her."

Once Joe had exited with the child, Melinda whimpered as Hop Sing went back to cleaning the wounds. "I was trying not to say much in front of Peggy," she confessed to both men, "but goodness, it's like there's a match burning me every time these things are touched. Do they look as bad as they feel?"

Adam tried to smile reassuringly. "Maybe I should get Paul."

"I think Doctor Hop Sing is doing a good job. Let's give him a chance to work his miracle and if we need to, we can go into town tomorrow to see Paul. I'd hate to have him come all this way on a Sunday."

"How did this happen?" he asked while taking a closer look at the scratches inside the torn bits of fabric.

"Hoss told Peggy there were kittens in the hayloft. She hollered down about how cute they were, and encouraged me to come too. About halfway up, a hissing cat came flying toward me."

"Did you frighten it or do something to make it mad?"

"Of course not!" she replied irritably. "I barely saw it up there before it was heading toward my face. It landed right here," she pointed to the top of her head, "and I could only hold it at bay with one hand or I'd have fallen off the ladder," she raised her bloody wrist for emphasis. "What made it bad was that its claws got stuck in my hair comb and it just kept slashing at me with its other paws until it finally got loose. I'd managed to make it back down by then and the darn thing still didn't just take off…it sort of slid down the front of me while digging in for dear life."

He moved Hop Sing away for a minute to look closely at her face. "You're lucky it didn't get your eyes." Taking a clean cloth from the table, he dipped it in water and began dabbing at the drying blood on her cheeks, but stopped when she began to tremble uncontrollably. "I think Hop Sing has a salve that should make these hurt less. Let's put that on and get you more comfortable. We can finish the rest of the cleanup when you aren't as shaky."

She began to breathe easier as the two men applied the greasy ointment. When they'd finished and Hop Sing took his supplies back to the kitchen, Melinda touched Adam's arm and confided, "I know this is sounds crazy, but I think Peggy dropped the cat on me."

"What makes you think that?"

"I saw her arms extended over the edge of the loft holding the animal before it fell, and then I heard her move away once it was trying to get untangled from my hair."

"Did you two have a bad day?"

"Not at all. We played hard; she laughed a lot, and seemed to have fun."

"This doesn't sound like the Peggy I knew," he said sadly, "but it's been a couple of years and that's plenty of time for things to change. Don't you think we should talk to her now?"

"Let's give her a little time to admit her involvement. If she doesn't, then I feel Laura must be here when we ask her about it." Melinda leaned forward suddenly and retched. As she tried to sit up, she whispered, "Everything's spinning."

Adam called out, "Bring some water, Hop Sing," as he lifted his wife from the chair and carried her to the settee. Gathering pillows, he got her settled and had her sip what she could from the glass the cook brought. "Better?" he asked as he saw pink returning to her cheeks.

Melinda nodded and breathed deeply.

Adam sat further down the couch and elevated Melinda's feet on his lap. "Take it easy for a few minutes and then I'll move you up to our room."

She nodded again, but as she began to feel stronger, she said, "I'd like to tell you a few things while we're alone."

"Are you up to it?"

"I do feel better; I'm so thankful that you're here now."

"So, what did you find out?" He asked as he angled himself to face her.

"I think Peggy is at least two grades behind where she should be in school. You mentioned that she was in second grade when Laura left, and it doesn't appear that she's made much progress in anything but reading. She likes to read and will sound out the words. She recognizes them once she does that, but she can't spell them from memory afterwards. From what I can tell, her level of mastery in arithmetic, spelling and grammar stops around second grade."

"How did you figure that out?"

"I worked some simple tests into the games we played and it didn't take long to see her weak spots. The good news is that when Hoss and I challenged her, she easily figured out the next steps. She's bright and eager to learn."

"Didn't she say that they held her back? So was she in third grade?"

"No, they put in her in fourth instead of fifth, which is where her age indicated she should be. The truth is that she _should_ have gone into third. There must have been some big gaps in what she was able to do when compared to the others in her class. The teasing must have been awful just as she said. It would have been even worse when adding in the confusion about where Will is, and her inability to tell Laura how bad she's feeling… That poor child must be a bundle of nerves and jitters, and perhaps she isn't able to think straight sometimes."

"Wow!" he puffed his cheeks as he blew out a breath. "I can't believe Laura let things get so out of hand."

"What's important now is to help get Peggy…and Laura…back on track. By the way, Hoss was wonderful today. He could find ten ways for every one of mine to explain how to do something so she enjoyed figuring it out instead of thinking she was learning."

A sly grin replaced the scowl that had been on Adam's face. "I've always said that man is smart. I wonder what he'd be like as a teacher."

"He'd be wonderful in the right circumstance! There are children everywhere who could learn so much from his patient instruction. But I'd guess he's happier doing what he's doing." She leaned forward and scooted back to sit up straighter. "I've been thinking about what you told me last night."

"Regarding?"

"With Will in jail and their money gone, life isn't going well for Laura either. It's hard to comfort or guide a child when you're feeling tense all the time."

"When you're a parent, you have to push that aside and do what's best." The room grew silent. "Do you think I should talk to Laura about Peggy?"

"I think you're the only one who can. And I have an idea. The Fairfield Academy is in San Francisco. They use the teaching method I developed, and I think it would be the perfect school for Peggy. It's energetic there, and they provide a disciplined environment where children can learn without the worries of home. Peggy could stay there during the week and go home on Friday."

"That school is also expensive." He grinned, "But you know that too."

She smiled coyly. "I came up with the plan. You can figure out how to pay for it."

He thought a minute. "Will is Peggy's father now, and I don't want to interfere in his affairs, so our paying for it is out. I do have an idea though. I've told you about Josie, the woman who helped me out after I'd been in an accident.* She heads the Sullivan Foundation in San Francisco. I used to be on her Board of Directors, so I know she's always looking for ways to make life better for woman who are struggling. Funding scholarships would be the perfect way to make a difference earlier in their lives. I'll send her a note and we'll meet with her once we're in Frisco. With her influence she can get a program running in no time."

"I think that sounds wonderful."

"I'll tell Laura about the school, and if she's interested, we'll set up a meeting for her with Josie and Fairfield." An involuntary shiver coursed through his body as he realized that the cuts on Melinda's face and arms were still oozing pink, and offered, "I wonder if we should ask Pa to postpone the party."

"I look that bad?" She chuckled and thought for a moment. "I'll make the best of it, honey. It's all set and would be difficult to reschedule."

"Well, we've got two days for the rawness to settle down, and I think you can hide some of the scratches with your hair and clothes. My only concern is whether you'll be feeling up to it. These sorts of things always hurt more a day or two after the shock wears off."

"I'll be fine."

They both jumped as the front door swung open and Joe came in with Peggy in tow. "Miss Dayton has something she'd like to get off her chest…don't you?" He pushed her gently toward where Melinda and Adam were sitting.

"Do you have something to tell us? Adam asked.

Tears began to streak down the child's dirty face as she burst out, "I think I musta knocked that mama cat out of the loft and down onto you, Melinda."

"How did that happen?" Melinda asked as she looked directly at the child.

Peggy stared at her feet. "I sort of pushed her outta the way to get a better look at the kittens and didn't realize we were so near the edge. I'm sorry."

"So it was an accident?" Adam asked.

She nodded while wiping her cheeks with her shirt sleeve.

Adam looked to Melinda, whose eyebrows rose and then settled as she nodded at him. "Thank you for telling us, Peggy. Your mother and the rest of the family will be home soon for dinner. You go get cleaned up and changed."

Once she'd walked into her room, Adam looked from Joe to Melinda and directed his question to his wife. "Do you believe it was an accident?"

"I'll have to."

Joe wrinkled his nose and asked, "Is there a reason to think it wasn't?"

Adam drew a deep breath. "Melinda wasn't sure what happened, but we'll accept Peggy's account and leave it there."

 **Five - When the Truth becomes Deadly**

The morning of the party dawned clear and warm. Melinda could hear preparations going on in the yard when she awoke, but had no inclination to hurry out of bed. She'd been fine the day after her tangle with the cat, but she'd gone to bed last night with the beginnings of a headache and achy feeling. She'd assumed it was as Adam had mentioned—that sometimes the effects of an injury took a day or two to set in, and she convinced herself that she'd wake up in fine fettle. She hadn't. Her stomach was queasy and the pain in her head was now accompanied by stiffness in her neck.

"Mornin' sleepyhead," Adam greeted her as he carried a tray with tea and toast into the room. "It's a big day around here, but I noticed that you were restless during the night so I thought I'd let you sleep. Did your headache go away?"

"Unuh," she said as she steadied herself while pushing up in bed. The swirling in her head ended as she stopped moving, but it set off a swirling in her stomach that she breathed deeply to stanch. "But give me a few minutes and a little something to eat and drink and I'll start feeling better."

Adam made sure she had what she needed and then excused himself to go help outside. He closed the bedroom door and stood a moment, thinking that Melinda didn't look well at all. Yet he knew she'd make the best of it no matter how bad she felt. As he headed down the steps, a feeling of deep uneasiness tightened his chest, but he shrugged it off, attributing it to the certainty of a long day to come.

Laura went upstairs an hour before the expected arrival of guests to help Melinda style her hair. She'd made the offer the evening before, saying she thought she could find a way to hide the marks on Melinda's forehead and neck in a fashionable way.

She'd apologized for Peggy's clumsiness after hearing the cat story. Since then, Laura and Peggy had been present only at breakfast and dinner. They'd spent Monday shopping in Virginia City at Ben's urging and expense after Laura had complained that she'd forgotten how warm Nevada could be compared to San Francisco, and that the clothing she'd packed was simply too warm to be comfortable. His generosity was sweetened even more with the encouragement to spend the entire day in town and have lunch on his tab.

She'd quickly gotten herself and Peggy dressed to go, and once she was in the buggy, she told Ben in a teasing voice, "If I didn't know better I would think you were trying to get rid of us, Ben."

Ben had slipped his thumbs in his pockets, rocked back onto his heels and smiled. He'd waved and called goodbye, but as soon as she'd cleared the yard he'd turned toward his two younger sons and rolled his eyes. "I don't get the woman. She can be sweet, but sometimes she seems too naïve to have a clue. Of course we don't want her around and underfoot today. And after what she said last night…paying her shopping bills is a small price to be rid of her ill-mannered fussiness."

Everyone had been shocked at Laura's comment at their Sunday dinner. Melinda had been able to join them after resting, and received the family's comfort and compassion for her sorry state. Hoss had even told a story about Adam sliding down the side of a hill and into a bed of cactus plants to make her smile. He'd completed the story by recalling that his brother had been so torn up from the fall that he'd almost died.** He'd gulped after that and said that maybe that wasn't the best story to tell or that at least he might have done well to omit the ending. But Melinda had laughed, reassuring him, "I'll gladly listen to any stories about my husband's younger years…especially if he gets a little abused in some of them."

Laura had shocked everyone at the end of the meal, when she'd given Melinda a look that bordered on jealousy and proclaimed, "Maybe I should have Peggy knock a cat onto me so I can get a little attention around here."

Ben had choked on his coffee while Peggy had turned white, and Adam had declared it was time for Melinda to rest and whisked her up the steps to their room.

Laura had looked around the table at the remaining diners and huffed, "It was just a joke. Why does everyone look so grim!"

On Tuesday, Laura had taken Peggy for a day-long picnic after being told that there was nothing she could do to help set up for the party. She had remained quiet at dinner too, other than volunteering to assist Melinda with her hair for the party.

Laura took a pair of scissors along when she went upstairs, and after looking over the situation, she suggested, "I know you don't wear bangs, but I think we could cut a few to help cover the marks on your forehead." With Melinda's approval, Laura made a few snips to fashion a soft fringe of hair ending at eyebrow level. She finished Melinda's new look by gathering the rest of her hair softly at the nape of her neck, securing it with a black ribbon to complement the light pink blouse and checked black skirt she was wearing. When finished, Laura handed Melinda a mirror and asked her what she thought.

"Wow!" she exclaimed as she saw her reflection. "The bangs are nice. You've done a great job. Thank you, Laura."

"It's the least I could do after my Peggy caused this." She took the mirror away and said, "Now let's see about covering up those last red areas with some makeup and powder. I asked at the theater when we were I town the other day and they gave me some to try. One of the actresses with that touring company that's in town, showed me how to use it so it doesn't look like pancake batter stuck to your skin." She chuckled as she turned Melinda to get her into better light. "You've healed very quickly," she added as she dabbed the thick goo onto the scratches.

In the back of her mind, Melinda had wondered if Laura might use this opportunity to make her look like a saloon girl, but after seeing the finished project, she was pleasantly surprised. "Thank you again. You have a real talent for this."

Laura blushed. "I've been working in a store that sells women's things and I've found that if I can make someone like the way they look, they'll be willing to buy more. I often use a few pins to pull together a flattering hair style to show how nice a new hat could look or to accentuate the neckline of a dress."

"You must be doing well." The compliment was sincere. While Laura busied herself gathering her combs and pins, Melinda mumbled, "I _look_ fine…now if I only felt fine."

Adam stood by his wife's side, proudly introducing her to friends of the Cartwright family as they arrived for the picnic lunch. He did notice that Melinda wasn't eating and would grimace if she turned her head too quickly, making him suspect that her ailments from the morning hadn't abated after all. He was pretty sure that he was the only one to see her slight hesitations and sighs. _She really is a Cartwright_ , he thought to himself.

The last guests were beginning to leave when he realized that he hadn't seen his wife for several minutes. She'd excused herself and headed toward the house but hadn't returned. Suspecting that she'd finally succumbed to the heat and her headache, he'd bid goodbye for both of them, and then had gone to find her. His hasty trip through the house and outbuildings failed to locate her, setting his heart pounding in fear.

"What's wrong, Adam? Joe asked as his oldest brother walked up to him. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"Have you seen Melinda? It's possible that we're crossing paths, but I can't find her anywhere. It's not reasonable to think that anyone followed us this far from Boston, but I've got a bad feeling."

Adam's words were enough to set his brother into action, quickly gathering the rest of his family. They decided to head out on foot first, scouting the yard for any indication that someone had been where they shouldn't have, perhaps watching from the periphery during the party for an opportunity to do harm.

Soon after separating, Hoss saw Melinda walking on the far side of a small rise at the back of the house. He ran to her and teased, "What's the matter, Melinda, you lost? We best get you back. You've got a few people worried."

Her eyes were glassy and unfocused as she stared at her brother-in-law. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

"Don't be fooling with me now." His voice was becoming tense even though he kept it soothing. "I'm Hoss; you know….Adam's brother." He wanted to grab her and run, but he didn't want to frighten her. His instincts told him that she really didn't recognize him.

"Oh, it's so nice to meet you. I didn't know you were coming to Boston for a visit. You must be staying with Abel." She looked around and then smiled eerily. "Is Adam coming over from school to spend time with you?" She sat down in the dirt and looked up at the big man above her and gave a sad laugh. "I'm afraid I _am_ lost, Hoss. I'm looking for Aunt Lynne's house and I can't find it. Everything looks so different, not like Boston at all."

Hoss knelt next to her and spoke softly. "Melinda, you're in Nevada on the Ponderosa. You're here with Adam. You two are married now."

"We are?" Her eyes seemed to lose focus then as she moaned and enfolded her head with her arms. "My head hurts so much…"

Hoss watched in panic as her eyes rolled back in her head. He scooped her up and ran for the house, hollering for Joe to go after Doc Martin. Adam followed his brother up the stairs asking a non-stop stream of questions, and then tried to get Melinda to awaken when she was safely on the bed. There was no response.

"Did you find her like this?" the older brother asked again while Hoss stood bent with his hands on his knees, puffing from his exertion.

"No," he was finally able to reply. "She was wandering around behind the house. When I asked what she was doin', she said she couldn't find her aunt's house, and thought you was still in school and I was visiting you in Boston. Then she said her head hurt and passed out." Hoss shook his head. "Strangest thing I ever seen."

Paul Martin had been one of the last to leave the party so Joe had caught up with him quickly. It was no more than ten minutes before he was back, standing in Adam's room. "What's going on?" he asked the two ashen men.

Adam shrugged as his voice faltered. "I thought maybe she fainted from the heat, but she won't wake up."

Paul asked Hoss to go into town to get Mrs. Leonard from the boarding house. "I don't know what's wrong yet," he explained to both men, "but I'm pretty sure you're going to need a woman's help for a day or two. Patsy Leonard has been tending to my patients for some time now and she'll do a fine job here."

"What if she can't come?" Hoss asked. "I mean what if she's got other things to do?"

"She'll come, Hoss. I saw her in town yesterday and she said it's lonely being a widow with nothing but the boarding house gossip to keep her occupied." When Hoss seemed unable to move, Paul gave him a push toward the door. "Get going now. Tell Patsy to bring her things along. That way she'll be prepared to stay." He laid a hand on Hoss's arm as he turned to leave. "I know your father and Joe are downstairs and anxious to know what's wrong, but please tell them to stay put. I'll talk to them as soon as I can."

Once Hoss was gone, Paul began to examine his patient as he ordered Adam to, "Tell me what you know."

"She was fine until last night when she complained of a headache. It was still there this morning but I thought she was feeling better before the party." Adam stopped his recital of the facts to put the sequence of his thoughts straight in his mind. "I never saw her eat though. When I volunteered to bring her a plate of food, she refused, and I can't say I ever noticed her eating later either. I thought she seemed flushed, but put that off to it being a warm day with a lot going on."

"Did you notice anything else?"

"I did see her wince a few times when she turned her head. She said her neck was stiff…that maybe she'd slept with her head at an odd angle. Then at the end of the party she went missing. Remember she wasn't around when you left… Hoss spotted her wandering out back. He said she was confused and complaining of horrible head pain."

"What do you mean by confused?"

"Didn't know where she was; thought I was still in college and Hoss was visiting in Boston."

"Start getting Melinda undressed," Paul ordered his friend while getting the medical tools from his bag. When Adam pursed his lips and closed his eyes without moving, Paul said gently, "I know this seems way off-plumb right now, but you have to focus, Adam. Forget that we're friends, and think of me only as a doctor. I'm going to be asking questions that will be extremely personal and I'll need direct answers, and you'll need to help me do the physical exam. Overcome whatever you're feeling and help me…or I'll get Ben in here instead."

Adam looked stricken but quickly began unbuttoning his wife's blouse and sat her up to slip it off her arms. While he and Paul removed her skirt, he asked, "What are we looking for?"

"I noticed the scratches she has, but I assume they've been there a day or two already. So look for anything else unusual—a rash, a bite mark or bruising..."

As the two men performed a visual inspection, Paul asked bluntly, "Is there any chance that Melinda is pregnant?"

"No."

"Are you certain?" When Adam stared back in silence, Paul said, "I need the details, Adam. Her symptoms could indicate early pregnancy. Some women become very ill around the time of conception and some have these symptoms with a miscarriage. But if that's not possible then I'll know it's something else." With no answer forthcoming, Paul said, "Let me help. I suspect that something occurred recently to make pregnancy unlikely?"

"Yes," Adam breathed as color began returning to his cheeks.

"How long ago, and the duration?"

The pallor returned. "For a few days right after we arrived here."

"Has there been marital relations since then?" The two men's eyes met. Paul couldn't help but think that his long-time friend looked about ready to pass out as he shook his head in a silent "no." Paul repeated his earlier thought. "I told you this wouldn't be easy, but we're past the worst of it." He took a closer look at the scratches on Melinda's chest and arms. "These all look to be well healed," but then he noticed something on one near her left shoulder. "There's a small papule on this one." Paul moved his fingers, pressing along Melinda's neck and in her armpit. "She has swelling in the lymph nodes. That might mean there's an infection brewing. By the way, Ben told me what happened with the cat."

Adam grumbled, "So much for our agreement not to bring up that subject at the party."

"Don't be mad at your father. It wasn't like he was gossiping. After I asked how things were going with Laura staying out here, he took me aside to tell me about Peggy's school problems and then mentioned the cat. He's very worried for the child."

Melinda moaned, setting Paul back to his examination. He elicited a yelp as he moved Melinda's head forward. "Well that confirms what you said about a sore neck. But this is more than stiffness from sleeping wrong."

"What do you think it is?" Adam snapped at his old friend.

Paul shook his head. "I don't know for certain. Extreme head pain accompanied by nausea, confusion, a high fever and stiff neck are signs of something very serious. Yet with only the small area of inflammation and the swollen glands, it's more likely her body is just fighting off something that will run its course over the next day." Paul stood quietly thinking for a moment before asking, "Did the cat scratch Peggy too?"

Adam shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't here when it happened."

"Please go check with her while I finish up."

Adam returned with the news that Peggy was scratch free. "Is that important, Paul?"

"I'm not sure yet."

"So what are you going to do?"

"We'll keep Melinda comfortable and observe her through the night. If it's not serious, I'd expect improvement by morning." Paul wished with all his heart that this would be the case. Yet a niggling in his head kept telling him this was going to be a long and nasty illness. There was no indication of anything being amiss other than the miniscule yellow spot on a few scratches, and yet she was exhibiting all the signs of a raging infection.

Putting all these pieces together was bringing something to Paul's mind. He decided he wouldn't say more now, hoping that Melinda might pass through this odd illness very quickly.

Mrs. Leonard arrived before evening to help with Melinda's care. She tended to her personal needs while Adam stayed at his wife's bedside after shooing his family to their rooms for the night. Joe volunteered to bunk with the hands, leaving his room free for Mrs. Leonard to use, and Hoss did the same, telling Paul to rest in his room if he got the chance.

Paul kept vigil with Adam, noting that Melinda's stupor was deepening and the fever going higher. She whimpered in her sleep as he'd check the rigidity in her neck, and soon each breath she released was accompanied by a soft moan. At midnight, the tired doctor told Adam, "I'm going to take Hoss up on his offer to catch a little shuteye. I'm not thinking straight anymore. An hour or two of sleep will help me sort things out better. Come for me if anything changes."

By four A.M. Paul was back in Melinda's room and disheartened by what he saw. His observations led him to a decision, and he asked Adam to come downstairs. He sat at Ben's desk while Adam leaned on the edge. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm sure you've reached your own conclusion that Melinda's illness is very serious."

Adam nodded. "She's in pain, and burning up. Have you decided what's wrong?"

"I have a theory, but it's just that. There's something about the way a couple of those scratches look that brings to mind a case study that I read in a professional journal a while back. It was written by a doctor in Massachusetts." He looked up at Adam. "Your father's told me that you have friends in Boston who will do anything to help you, and I'm going to need them to find this doctor."

"Tell me what you need."

"If I'm remembering correctly, this physician graduated from Harvard, and now works at Massachusetts General. The case he wrote about described a phenomenon he witnessed while serving in the Civil War. He had several soldiers go down with high fever and signs of meningitis—that's a swelling of the lining around the brain and spinal cord. He worried at first that it was a contagious disease, but he found the sickness only in a platoon of men who had slept in a barn that had been overrun with cats. And even then, the only ones ill were those who had been scratched or bitten while trying to get rid of the animals. None of those who simply slept in the barn became ill, nor did those tending to them. The author concluded that the fever was caused by something they had gotten from contact with the cats, and did not spread from person to person. He also cited an article written in the British Journal of Medicine, establishing similar symptoms under the same circumstances. The English article noted that most people don't become seriously ill. Generally, patients have a low-grade fever and malaise, but recover quickly."

"So you think that Melinda's tangle with the cat is responsible for this? Did either of these articles give a clue as to why _her_ symptoms might be so bad?"

"I'm leaning strongly toward this cat fever, but I want to check with the author of the article. Maybe I'm missing something. I'm not sure why Melinda is so ill. Both physicians noted that those with the worst cases seemed to have multiple wounds just as Melinda and those soldiers. Perhaps it's the volume of exposure that adds up."

"Shouldn't Melinda's wounds look raw if they're infected?" Adam's pitch was rising as he struggled to understand, yet he spoke softly so as not to wake Laura and Peggy who were sleeping in the next room.

"The infection isn't in the skin. We did see those tiny yellow blisters on a few of her scratches, and this other doctor remarked about the same thing on those he treated—but that isn't the problem. What causes this meningitis is something that entered through the scratch and went deep inside the body to attack things we can't see."

"What's this doctor's name? I'll check with the hospital and if he isn't there, I'll get the Wadsworths looking for him."

"His name is Samuel Greene." Paul registered Adam's chuckle and asked, "What's so funny?"

"I'm pretty sure the man you're looking for is _our_ doctor. Our Sam Greene works at Mass General; he graduated from Harvard and served in the war. How's that for coincidence…and providence?"

"I'd say it's a blessing." Paul pulled open a desk drawer, withdrawing paper and a pencil. "I'll write out what to include in the telegram. I know you don't want to leave Melinda right now, but this will be a better way of helping her than sitting around. The sun's already up in Boston, so Dr. Greene should be in his office by the time you send the wire. If he's not, at least you'll know other people who can find him." After writing for a few minutes, he reread the note and passed it to Adam. "There. I hope that's enough to help him decide if this cat fever syndrome seems likely." He gave Adam a sad smile as he watched his friend reading through the message. "I'm afraid it will cost a small fortune to send."

"That's what fortunes are for," Adam replied as he headed to don his coat and hat, and finally grabbed his holster from the credenza by the door. "You'll stay here until I return?"

"I will. Please stop at my office and put a note on the door saying that I'll be back by evening. My patients will go to Dr. Smith if they can't find me, but I can't expect him to do that for too long. I'll have to leave once Melinda's condition seems stable."

Adam stood with his hand on the door latch considering what his friend had said. "Are you saying that if it's this cat thing, she'll be getting better soon?"

Paul shook his head. "That's not what I meant. From what Dr. Greene wrote in his paper, this could go on for some time. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I want to hear what your doctor-friend has to say first."

"She will recover, won't she?" the worried man asked with a mouth so dry that his words stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Time will tell." Paul watched as Adam turned from the door and headed back toward the stairs. "Did you forget something?"

"I want to see Melinda before I go…just…"

The weary doctor wished he could give his friend the reassurance that all would be well until he returned, but he couldn't, and he nodded in silent recognition of Adam's fear.

Paul breakfasted with the other three Cartwright men who all looked worried and haggard.

"Have you figured out what's wrong with Melinda?" Ben asked.

"She's in pain and running a high fever, so I suspect it's meningitis. I sent Adam to telegraph his doctor back in Boston. He has experience working with cases like this."

Ben gave his friend a wilting glare. "You're talking, Paul, but you're not saying anything. What sort of cases does Sam Greene have experience with that you don't?"

"Cat Fever. The meningitis—or swelling around the brain—is probably caused by something Melinda was infected with from those cat scratches. It's unfortunate that medicine hasn't advanced enough to be certain of this, but her symptoms closely resemble what Dr. Greene dealt with."

"She will recover?" Ben asked in a tone that sounded like an order.

Paul shrugged. "We won't know for a while. Meningitis affects the brain, and the brain controls everything in the body. There are so many things that can go wrong as this kind of illness works its way through her system. And even if she recovers, there may be lasting effects."

"But ya think it's somethin' related to them scratches she got." Hoss sounded less than sure of this information. "I've been scratched by cats many-a-time and never got sick."

"I don't think it's present in all cats, Hoss. You told me this was a stray who showed up on the ranch a few weeks ago. The truth is that this is still a theory and will only be proven when there's enough evidence to call it a true disease. That's why I'm contacting Dr. Greene. He's seen this before and if he can confirm the symptoms, then perhaps he can also give me a few pointers on the treatment."

Joe spoke up. "I remember Mrs. Smyth always telling us to be careful around their cats. They kept them around to take care of the mice but her kids were never allowed to play with them. Hoss was carrying one around once when we were there, and she screamed at him to put it down. She said that one of her relatives got really sick from a cat scratch. Maybe it was this same thing."

Paul nodded as he sipped his coffee. "A lot of medical progress comes about because of stories handed down through generations of patients. They give a good picture of how an illness develops or spreads."

Ben laid his napkin on the table and directed his focus to Hoss. "Son, you'll need to do something about that cat, and be careful. I don't want anyone else to get hurt."

Hoss looked down at his plate and then smiled as an idea hit him. "I'll take her and her little ones over to Jake Hardy's place and explain the situation. He don't have kids around and he's got them barns out back that are full of mice. Since he don't cotton none to cats, he won't come near her as long as she keeps the mice outta his feed."

"I hope that will work out, but you need to make sure he understands the risks." Ben rose from the table, asking the others to join him in Melina's room to pray together before they left to do their chores. Ben led the men and Mrs. Leonard in a brief prayer for his daughter-in-law's welfare and then leaned to kiss Melinda's forehead, grasped her hand and whispered into her ear. "We'll all be back soon, dear. You keep fighting."

As Ben walked out the front door he saw Laura sitting on the porch. He stopped abruptly and faced her. "Are you planning to head home soon?"

"Not just yet. Peggy is so at ease out here, not fidgety like she was in San Francisco. I'm taking her to play with her old school friend today, and tomorrow we're going to the church social so she can spend time with other children she knew."

Ben's forced smile dropped into an incredulous frown as his brow creased as he thought _how can she not see the tension and sadness here and ignore her daughter's obvious pain?_ He'd seen Peggy go pale and shy away whenever someone spoke of Melinda's illness, and he couldn't figure out how Laura considered that as being "at ease." He assumed that Peggy was feeling a little ill herself over her part in what had happened. Ben didn't blame Peggy; no one did. He had heard Adam tell her that she wasn't responsible…that accidents can sometimes have unforeseen consequences, and that's just how life worked sometimes. His son had also told Peggy that she could help most by praying for Melinda's recovery. Yet, Ben wondered if Peggy wouldn't feel far better if she didn't have to be around the situation as it played out. To that end he tried to encourage Laura's departure by asking, "Do you have your return tickets? I can pick those up for you today if you don't."

"I haven't decided when we're leaving, but it would help me greatly if you would buy the tickets."

He stood silent for a moment and then spoke frankly. "Laura, you should know that I won't give you any money for Will. I helped him once and thought he had learned not to play with fire. I spoke for him when he got the job with Mark Bixby and then he betrayed our trust. I paid back the money Will stole to keep peace with a friend, but I won't save Will from his poor decision. That's why I asked that Bixby not drop the charges. Will won't be in jail long, but he needs to know there are consequences for squandering a fortune and then trying to get more dishonestly. I'm sure this hasn't been easy for you either and I will contact my banker in San Francisco to have an account set up to help with your living expenses until Will is out and you two are doing better again."

Laura smiled modestly as she reached for his hand. "I hate that it has come to this, Ben, but that would help so much. Thank you. I'm working now but it's not enough. I need to find a place to stay that would feel more like home for Peggy."

The older man blushed. He hadn't expected her sincerity and gratitude. And yet, he knew that's how Laura operated. She always seemed to need others to push her into action. He was moved to help because he knew that she wouldn't have squandered her own money. When Adam had worked with her, he had taught her how to budget and cover her costs, and she had been doing well before marrying Will. He also knew that his nephew was lured by the idea of "easy" money without considering all the facts. That's what had gotten him into the mess with the counterfeiters he'd been running from when Ben had found him. He figured that Will had been easy prey for flimflammers who found out that he had money in his pockets.

He prayed that Will would learn a strong lesson during his time in jail, and could reset his priorities when released. Ben had also decided that he would go to San Francisco—hopefully with Adam and Melinda. He wanted the extra time with his son, and while there, he would visit his nephew in jail. His patience and direction had saved the man once, and he hoped that some wise counsel might set him on the right path again.

Sam Greene responded to Paul Martin's wire with his agreement that Melinda's symptoms closely resembled what he'd seen. He gave advice as to treatment and asked to be wired with daily updates. Sam also asked that Paul keep detailed notes about the course of Melinda's battle.

The fever and pain Melinda experienced from cat-scratch fever, as Paul Martin began to call it, was relentless. Dr. Greene had advised cooling baths to keep Melinda's body temperature from destroying her brain. She would scream in agony as Adam and Mrs. Leonard moved her into the cool water, and the only thing that kept her caretakers doing it was that Melinda was actually able to rest more comfortably when her temperature dipped to a normal range for a few hours afterwards.

The morphine Paul injected seemed to have little pain dampening power. One effect of the medication that gave Adam the jitters was that it slowed Melinda's breathing, at times seeming to stop it completely.

Adam stayed at his wife's side day and night, praying, helping, and always telling her of his love. He rode into to town each day to wire Dr. Greene with the updates that he and Mrs. Leonard would pen, and would wait to bring home the reply so Paul could read it when he stopped at the Ponderosa.

On the fifth night of the fever, Ben entered Melinda's room to find his son sitting on the end of the bed, looking only marginally better than the patient. He laid his arm around the man's shoulders. "Mrs. Leonard tells me that you haven't slept more than a few hours since this began."

"That's about right, I suppose." He went silent as he met his father's eyes. "It's just that…"

"You think that if you close your eyes, she might leave you."

Adam nodded. "But it's more than that." He looked down at his hands as he laid his palms open. "I brought her here thinking she'd be safe; and now…"

"She could die here instead of in Boston?"

He nodded again. "It seems I can't protect her anywhere."

"I know how you feel, son. When your mothers were taken from me or when any of you boys were sick…I felt the same kind of helplessness. But I've come to know that we can't protect people from everything. You can make a safe home; care for those you love, and do your best, but bad things can find their way in." He gave Adam's shoulder a squeeze. "Unfortunately, they seem to happen a lot to the Cartwright family."

Adam sat straighter and looked up at his father. "You've said a lot there."

"I can't explain why it's that way, but I'd like to believe that we handle what we're given and become better in the journey." He patted Adam's back. "And becoming sick yourself serves no one, Adam. You need to rest so that you can deal with whatever happens. I know I can't talk you into sleeping in my room while I stay here, but how about lying down next to Melinda. You'll awaken if she needs you."

He yawned and stretched. "That sounds reasonable, but I wouldn't want to give Mrs. Leonard a heart attack if she walks in and sees me on the bed."

Ben grinned, "It was her suggestion. Patsy says Melinda keeps reaching out in her sleep and she figures she's trying to find you. If you're next to her, maybe she'll rest easier too."

Adam kicked his boots off and moved around the bed. "I think Mrs. Leonard might be right."

Ben lowered the flame in the lamp and turned to see his son lying down atop the covers at Melinda's side.

As he reached the door Ben heard Adam say softly, "I can handle what comes my way, Pa. I just wonder how much more Melinda can take."

The father smiled in the dark. "No one knows that until they're tested, son. But Melinda's a Cartwright now and she's a fighter just like we are."

Patsy Leonard peeked into Melinda's room on her way to turn in, and smiled as she saw Adam sound asleep next to his wife. She tiptoed into the room, retrieved a spare blanket from the back of the rocking chair and gently covered him.

The middle-aged woman thought to herself that she had never witnessed such devotion as Adam exhibited toward his wife. In fact she had never seen a family as concerned and helpful as this one. They made her feel at home, and continually thanked her for her care. She'd been around sickness enough to know that whatever was wrong with Melinda couldn't go on much longer. Even though they were able to bring the fever down when it spiked, in her heart she knew that Melinda's body had to either fight this off for good, or succumb to it—and one outcome or the other would happen soon.

She had known of the Cartwrights—had seen their kindness and strength in the community. But she'd never witnessed it up close. It hadn't taken long to see how these men worked together. She might call it loyalty or family pride. It was certainly that, but what she decided was that it was simply love. Every one of them regularly stopped in to see Melinda. They read to her or just sat and told the sleeping woman about their day to give Adam a chance to stretch his legs and get some air. It left her certain that if Melinda didn't recover, everyone in the house would suffer deeply.

Turning back before exiting the room, she saw Melinda open her eyes, turn her head toward Adam, and caress his cheek. By the time Patsy made it to the bed to check on her, the young woman was sleeping again, while holding tightly to her husband's hand. She laid the back of her arm against Melinda's forehead and realized that the fever was down. Her first impulse was to shout to the rafters and wake everyone up in the silent house. But that could wait. For the first time since she'd arrived, she felt a sense of peace had enfolded those within this place and she wasn't about to disturb that.

 **Six – Admissions and Horse Play**

Smiling faces surrounded the breakfast table as Ben asked, "Is the fever is gone…for good?"

"Mrs. Leonard said it was down when she checked around ten last night and it hasn't returned." Adam felt hungry for the first time in days and bit off a piece of bacon after answering his father.

"Praise be," Hoss muttered while chewing on a pancake. Once he swallowed, he asked, "Do you know what will happen now? Is she awake?"

"Not yet. She did open her eyes and smile at me early this morning, and I think she's sleeping comfortably for the first time since this started. Sam hasn't said much about recovery. His telegrams have mostly been warnings about what to expect if things were getting worse. I'm riding in after breakfast to wire him the latest news and see what he has to say." He folded his napkin and placed it on the table, taking one last sip of coffee before rising. "I'm going up to check on Melinda and then I'm leaving. Does anyone need anything from town while I'm there?"

"I'm expecting a response to a timber bid today, Adam. Could you check at the stage office and see if any packets came in from Sacramento?" Joe chewed on his lip, looking uncharacteristically shy. "I'm happy for you." Adam's questioning look made him explain further. "Happy that Melinda is getting better. I sure would have hated to lose her after getting used to her being around. She's a pretty good fisherman after all."

Adam smiled at his youngest brother. "Thanks, Joe. I'll tell Melinda you'll be waiting for her with the poles and worms as soon as she's up to it."

Peggy was standing by the barn doors when Adam came outside. "I did something for you," she called as he walked toward her.

"Oh yeah, what did you do?"

She led the way to Sport's stall and pointed at the big chestnut. "Hoss helped me wash him down early this morning, and I made him look nice."

His jaw dropped as Adam walked around his horse and finally shook off his surprise enough to say, "He does look very, ah, nice, Peggy. What made you, um, pretty him up like this?"

"It's how the fancy carriage horses look in San Francisco," she explained, and then watched as he examined the rows of braids in Sport's mane and made his way back to the twisted and bundled tail. "You look sort of sick, Adam" she commented with a shaky voice, "don't you like it?"

He brought her over to sit on the tack box and then leaned back against the stall boards. "Thank you for washing him and making him look so handsome, but he's not a carriage horse, Peggy. He's a working horse and he'll need his tail to swat flies." He had no idea if Sport would have trouble with his tail tied up that way. The tails and manes of the horses back East were often trussed up similar to this and it didn't seem to cause any distress to the animals. What Adam was really thinking was that if he showed up in Virginia City with his horse looking like this he'd be laughed all the way back to the Ponderosa. He moved toward Sport again, while suggesting a compromise, "How about you let his tail down while I saddle him. I'll leave a few of those braids in his mane to show everyone later, but Sport will be more comfortable with things are as they usually are." He thought a minute and grinned. "You know, Melinda would like her hair braided. She'll be up and around soon and I think having you come and fix her hair would make her very happy."

Peggy slipped from the box and began undoing the knot in Sport's tail. "I doubt Melinda will ever want to see me again."

Adam watched Peggy's face slip into a deep frown. "Why would you say that?"

"Because of what I did to her," she said matter-of-factly.

"You said it was an accident."

She faced him with tears beginning to streak down her face. "No, it wasn't an accident…or at least not at first."

He recalled Melinda's suspicions on the day she was injured, and said, "I think you'd better explain."

Peggy shook her head as tears continued to flow. "The day we got here, Mommy heard all of you outside our bedroom window while we unpacked. You were all laughing and having fun, pretending that Melinda was a princess or somethin' like that, and Mommy got so mad. She told me that Melinda was as pretty as everyone in town said she was, but people wouldn't like her so well if a cat got hold of her and she weren't so nice to look at anymore." She sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. "After I had so much fun on Sunday, I got scared that Mommy would be mad at me too for liking Melinda. So I took that cat under its belly and held it over the edge of the loft when Melinda started to climb up, thinking maybe I wouldn't be in trouble if I did what Mommy had talked about. But I couldn't do it. I was pulling the cat back when it wiggled loose from my hands."

"What changed your mind?"

"I thought about what I was doing and felt ashamed. I knew that Mommy was wrong. People like Melinda just 'cause she's nice, and would still like her no matter what."

He sat heavily on the tack box Peggy had vacated, motioned her near and took her hands. "Why didn't you tell us this right away?"

"I got to thinking that it really was an accident. And when Melinda didn't say anything after I said how it happened, I thought maybe she didn't see me."

"She saw you, but she chose to trust your explanation. What made you tell me the truth now?"

"There's been a big rock in my stomach. I felt so bad I couldn't even look at you. I tried to stay out of the house so I didn't have to hear everyone talking about how sick Melinda is. I begged Mommy to leave, but she wouldn't, and I thought I'd explode if I kept this inside me any longer."

What she'd said made sense to Adam. He hadn't seen much of the child all week, but hadn't had time to wonder why. "I'm glad you told the truth. And I'm not excusing your mother for her thoughtless words, but you are old enough to know that when she said what she did, she wasn't asking you to toss a cat in Melinda's face."

Her voice was barely a whisper. "I know; I wish I could take it all back. I said prayers for Melinda every day like you said I should, and something in my heart kept telling me that they wouldn't go through unless I told the truth."

"That was your conscience, Peggy. I'm proud of you for listening to that and doing something about it." He gritted his teeth as he considered how to explain his concerns. "The truth is that when you do something wrong or unkind, you can't control what will happen afterwards. But now you've seen the damage it can do. It's a terrible feeling isn't it?"

She nodded.

He pulled her closer and raised her chin so that she was looking at him. "It's always more important to be beautiful on the inside than on the outside, Miss Dayton."

She wrinkled her nose. "How can anyone see that you're beautiful on the inside?"

"That's the point. You can't see it. That sort of beauty is called character. People with character treat others fairly and with kindness."

"You mean someone like you." She offered with a shy smile and a sniff.

"I'm thinking more about Melinda, and my family, but I think you get the idea. You'll grow to be a beautiful woman, Peggy, and I think this experience will help to make sure that your character shows just as much as your pretty face." He rose and ran his fingers through Sport's tail to let it flow freely again, and then backed him out of the stall and into the yard.

He waited until Peggy stepped away before giving Sport a nudge forward. "You'll need to tell your mother what you've told me. She can help you decide what else you need to do."

 **Seven – Decisions**

Paul Martin was waiting by the hitching post as Adam rode into the yard. A broad smile erupted on the doctor's face as he examined the remaining braids and ribbons adorning Sport's mane while Adam tied him to the rail. "Aren't you all prettied up this morning?" he said to the horse, patting his neck. "Peggy's handiwork, I'd guess," was directed at the horse's owner.

"You'd guess right. She had him all gussied up by the time I came out this morning. I got her to take some of it out but didn't have time to fuss with all of it." Adam looked around to make sure Peggy wasn't nearby and dropped his voice to a volume only Paul could hear. "I took the back streets into town and left Sport by your office rather than riding to the telegraph office."

Paul laughed heartily as he slapped Adam's shoulder. "I can imagine the fun some of those old-timers in town would have had with you if they'd seen this." He waited expectantly but when Adam gave no further information he prompted, "So? What did Dr. Greene have to say today?"

"First, you tell me how Melinda's doing. I assume you've been up to see her already."

"I was with her for almost an hour. The fever is gone, just as you and Patsy suspected. She's awake but still groggy and has a pretty uncomfortable headache yet. There are other things going on, but I'm not sure if they're unusual or to be expected. Let me see the telegram and then we'll discuss it. Patsy's getting Melinda bathed now and she's planning to have her sit up a bit after that."

Adam handed over the wire and sat on the edge of the porch, drumming his fingers on the planks while Paul read.

Laura was inside the house packing. Peggy had confessed the truth about the cat incident to her, and when Laura realized all that Peggy had told Adam, she assumed that their welcome at the Ponderosa would be rescinded. The situation left her proud that Peggy had told the truth, while fearing the Cartwright family would hold the child's mother most responsible for the daughter's actions.

The whole situation made Laura's blood boil. When she'd left Virginia City with Will, she'd presumed that she would be able to return as an honored wife in the Cartwright clan. Instead she'd had to come back pretending that all was fine even though everyone knew the truth about Will. She hadn't asked outright for money, but she'd had to use every bit of her guile to tap into the Cartwright generosity. She'd received a new wardrobe for her efforts, and by staying past her welcome, she'd managed to prompt an offer of real financial assistance. It galled her that she had to rely on Ben's charity to avoid becoming destitute. But what vexed her even more was that Will's irresponsibility and betrayal of the high-and-mighty Cartwright code of honor, meant that she would never receive the loyalty she should have garnered as a member of this family…like Melinda did.

The truth was that Laura liked Melinda well enough. She wasn't snooty or high-handed as she had imagined her. It was the attention the woman received for being Adam's wife that poked at Laura like a deep splinter. And after Melinda was injured, the doting over her had gone on non-stop. Laura wished for some of that love and care too. After all, hadn't she and Peggy suffered severely from the bad deeds of one of the Cartwrights' own? Where was even a breath of sympathy for her? Everyone acted as though it was her fault that her life was in such upheaval. She stood with her hands on her hips, her face set in a scowl, wondering why no one seemed to worry a lick about _her_ pain.

As her head cleared from her self-pity, she heard a conversation going on outside her window and realized that Adam had returned and was talking with Paul Martin. Her curiosity took over where her anger had left off, and she slipped quietly to hide behind the curtain and listen.

She figured that the two of them were talking about the most recent telegram from the doctor out East they'd been in contact with concerning Melinda's illness. As Paul began defining the words contained in the message, a wicked smile grew to replace Laura's pout as she thought, _maybe_ _Melinda's life isn't going to be as wonderful as I had assumed it would be. And in this case, no amount of beauty, intelligence or family loyalty will matter._

Paul sat down next to Adam on the porch. "Melinda is exhibiting most of what Sam describes. Since these are medical terms, I assume you don't know what they all mean?"

Adam shook his head and smiled wryly. "Some, yes, and I could try to decipher the others from their Greek and Latin roots…but why don't you just tell me."

"He writes that she may experience incontinence." Paul's earlier warning that he and Adam would be discussing things they'd never have thought of talking about in the past, came back in full force making him hesitate before saying, "That means she'll have trouble controlling her bladder."

"Oh," he frowned, "that won't make her happy. What else?"

"The one that I feel will be hardest for her to deal with is already happening. It's dysphasia, or difficulty speaking. There are different kinds of dysphasia that can happen after an illness of the brain. Where you see it most often is after a stroke. You remember how Isaac Matthews could only say the word, 'coffee' after his stroke. No matter what he thought, that's the only word that came out of his mouth. Then there's Jake Gotliebe who speaks words in great quantity, but they don't make sense."

Adam nodded as he paled. "Is that what Melinda's doing?"

"I went through several tests to see what kind of dysphasia she has and the good news is that she knows what she wants to say. The most frustrating part for her is that she can only speak a word or two of what she's trying to communicate. They're the right words though." He scratched his head. "Think of all this like a telegraph system. Her brain sends the right message, and her mouth works fine too, but the line between them needs to be repaired so that they work together again." He saw Adam nod, and continued, "The other things Sam notes are not as worrisome. She does have the headache, and with that may come nausea or anorexia, which just means she'll have no appetite. Her movements will be affected much like her ability to speak. That's because of the downed wire again. Her brain sends signals to her nerves and muscles, but there's a problem getting the whole message through to them."

Adam shook his head. "What you're saying is that even though the fever's gone, she's going to have demoralizing side effects."

Paul pointed to the bottom of the paper he was holding. "That's true, but you read the last two lines of this, didn't you?" Adam nodded again. "Then you know the outcome."

He blew his breath out slowly. "Yes, I do." As he leaned forward to stand up, he saw the corner of paper sticking out of his shirt pocket. He pulled it out and handed it to Paul. "I almost forgot. I saw this tacked to the door when I left Sport by your place."

Paul quickly scanned it and declared, "I'm sorry; I have to run. Meg Patterson is in labor. I'm a little concerned about her and I should head over that way. Hopefully she'll have a bouncing baby by the time I get there. You can go over Dr. Greene's note with Melinda, and I'll stop back later or first thing tomorrow to answer any questions."

Adam turned Paul's carriage around while the doctor retrieved his coat and bag from the house. He saluted his friend after handing over the reins and said, "Give Meg and Jack my best. Thank you, Paul." After the doctor was gone, Adam went inside and made his way to the kitchen for a drink of water and found that Hop Sing had left muffins warming on the oven vent. He grabbed one and consumed it in three bites, washing it down with another swig of water, and then headed upstairs.

Melinda was sitting by the open window. "Don't you look like a cat curled up in a warm spot of sunshine," he chuckled. When she turned toward him with a scathing glare, he thought about what he'd said and groaned. "Ah, maybe that wasn't the best analogy, but it's so good to see your eyes open and you sitting up." He leaned down to kiss her, whispering, "I've missed you, my love." As he tried to sit in the chair he'd pulled over near the window, he caught the grip of his pistol on the ornately trimmed arm and removed his gun belt, placing it on the bed. He took Melinda's hands and kissed them. "Paul left to deliver a baby and will stop back later. He said you're doing much better today, but that you're having a little trouble talking."

She tried to say yes, but struggled on the "y" and finally nodded instead.

"And your head is still hurting?"

She rolled her eyes as a look of pain twisted her cheeks and brow.

"I'll take that as a yes. Did Paul explain why you've been so ill?"

"Cat," she managed to say, but then struggled with the word, fever.

"That's right. Did he tell you how long you've been ill?"

She held up six fingers."

This time Adam nodded. "It seemed like forever." He leaned forward and gently took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. "All that matters is you're awake now and getting better." He searched his pockets and realized he'd set the telegram on the table in the kitchen when he'd snitched the muffin. "Shoot," he said, "I was going to read you Sam's wire from this morning, but I left it downstairs. Did Paul tell you that Sam Greene dealt with a similar illness during the war and has been communicating with us daily?"

Melinda nodded again.

"I'll go down for it in a minute, but the good news is that you're going to be…" he stopped as he heard a buggy pulling into the yard below. Adam leaned out the window, thinking that perhaps Paul had returned, but reported, "It's Mrs. Fields." When Melinda gave no clue that she recognized the name, he explained, "The woman from the shop where you got the skirt and blouse you wore at the party."

"Wh, what…" she blew out an impatient sigh.

"I suppose I should run down and see what…" but then stopped when he heard Laura's voice as she called a greeting to the visitor while exiting the house. "Good, Laura can take care of it." He sat back down as the women's conversation began to drift up to them.

"Laura!" Mrs. Fields called out, "You're still here. I thought you'd have headed back to San Francisco by now."

"We'll be leaving tomorrow. I had a few things to do, and friends to visit while we were here."

"I guess I'd have worried a little about getting in the way with all that's been going on."

Laura bristled. "We weren't any bother. I made sure we took care of ourselves and stayed out from underfoot. What brings you out here, Flora?"

"I heard that Mrs. Cartwright's has been ill, and thought I'd bring out a pretty new robe to cheer her up. She wore the skirt and blouse she bought from me at the party the Cartwrights gave, and I've had a steady stream of customers since then hoping to get the same sort of outfit. I figured I should thank her, and thought that she'd appreciate having something pretty to wear while she recovers."

"I can take it to her. She's not receiving company."

"Thank you." She continued in a wistful voice, "This is a lovely place, and peaceful. I was so busy last week that I couldn't make it out to the party. Others have told me that it was a typical Cartwright event—perfectly done with great hospitality." Her tone now reflected her concern. "It's a shame what happened after it though. The word in town is that Mrs. Cartwright's sickness is severe. Everyone I know is praying that she will get through this."

"I wonder if sometimes prayers are said for the wrong outcomes," Laura sighed dramatically.

Flora was guarded. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the truth is that we always pray for people to live, but in some cases, perhaps it would be better to pray for a quick and merciful end."

"What could possibly make you say something like that?" Flora hissed.

"Would you want to live on if it meant wetting yourself like a baby and being unable to walk, feed or care for yourself? And how would you feel if you could never speak again? That's what Melinda is facing. What kind of a life will this be for her…or Adam? He'll need constant help to care for her, and they'll never be able to go out as a couple or have a family. I wonder if given the choice, might Melinda have wished us to pray that she would die rather than to be a burden for the rest of her life."

"Certainly she'll get better," Flora stated firmly.

"Not according to Paul Martin. I heard him tell Adam what I just told you, no more than ten minutes ago. The fever is gone, but Melinda will remain an invalid."

Dropping her voice, the visitor cautioned, "You best watch what you say about Mrs. Cartwright."

Laura laughed without humor, "In case you've forgotten, I'm Mrs. Cartwright too."

"Then perhaps you should start acting like it my dear. The Cartwrights would never gossip about one of their own." She snapped the leather to set her horse moving from the yard.

In their room, Melinda's eyes had continued to widen as Laura's prognosis carried to her ears on a summer breeze. Her fear was reflecting back at her in the concern showing on Adam's face. She struggled to speak, and finally said, "True?" while pointing to the window.

"No," he reassured, "at least not in the way she made it sound. I was trying to tell you what Sam said when…" He stopped speaking as Melinda tried to rise but couldn't make her limbs work together. He assisted her up and held her arms, noting that she looked wild-eyed and about ready to crawl out of her skin. Trying again to explain, he said, "I need to read Sam's telegram to you. It will explain what's happening. Don't worry, honey, it's all going to be..." His words were again cut short as he heard a splattering noise.

They both looked down at the growing puddle wetting Melinda's feet and splashing onto the toes of Adam's boots. She touched the expanding of area of wetness forming on the lower front of her nightgown, and moaned. A look of horror accompanied a deep blush as she tried to push past Adam. Her legs buckled and she slipped in the puddle, sending her back down into her chair with a thud. The stricken woman pointed at Adam and shouted, "Li…ar!"

He knelt next to her but she pushed him away as she tried to gather dry parts of her gown to cover the urine saturated panel. "Melinda," he said soothingly, "don't worry, it's nothing." She refused to look up even after he tried to raise her chin. "Look at me, honey," he pled.

She kept her head down as she slowly shook her head and wept silently. Her face was a blank as she briefly made eye contact. She pointed to the door and said, "Go."

Adam knew Melinda had stopped listening and it would do no good to try to explain. He needed the telegram. It would be proof of what he would tell her, and something solid for her to hold onto as she dealt with the latest manifestations of this illness.

Mrs. Leonard had heard the raised voices and came into the room as Adam was nearing the door. "Is everything all right?" she inquired as she saw Melinda tightly huddled in her chair.

"No," Adam snapped but then calmed himself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so sharp. Melinda needs your help." He looked back at his wife and told her he'd be back in a few minutes and then motioned for Mrs. Leonard to follow him into the hall. "She heard something that makes her think she won't recover from the things that are affecting her now. I have a lot to tell her but she'll need to calm down a little first. I'll be back up as soon as I deal with a few things."

Patsy Leonard touched his arm. "I assume you heard that spiteful woman talking outside too. I'm sure half the county did. What do you suppose gets into a person to do something like that?" She patted his arm again. "Take your time. I'll get Mrs. Cartwright back in order. She'll feel better then."

Adam met Laura as she entered the kitchen door. She said nothing as she set the box from Mrs. Fields on the table and sat down in the chair, leaned forward onto her arms, and sighed.

"I heard you tell Flora that you're leaving tomorrow," he said brusquely, trying to keep from shouting. "That's good. At least I don't have to throw you out."

She sat up and waved her hand dismissively. "I figured that would be the case when Peggy told me what she'd done."

"You think I'm mad about Peggy?" he asked incredulously. "I was sad to hear what she did, but she's a kid and they can't always anticipate the outcome of their actions." He sat at the table too. "My concern is with you, Laura."

Her eyes popped wide, but then she sighed again. "I knew you'd blame me. But you just said that kids do foolish things, so why is it my fault?"

He rubbed his face and then softly pounded his fist on the table while considering what needed to be said. "First of all, you're hiding things from Peggy again. She knows that Will is in trouble, but it's obvious that you haven't told her the truth so she's trying to protect you…just like after her father died. She pretends everything is fine for you, but it's not. It's confusing for her and I think it led to her make a very bad decision."

Laura's nose wrinkled. "I'm protecting her so she won't have to know how bad things are."

"No you're not. You're protecting yourself against having an honest conversation. You don't have to tell her the details, but she needs to know that no matter what's going on, _you_ will always be there for her and she can come to you when she has questions." He let that settle for a moment and then continued, "And while you treat Peggy like a baby in some things, you treat her like your confidant at other times. That has to stop."

She flashed, "What do you mean by that?"

"You let Peggy see your jealousy towards Melinda, and she couldn't figure out how to like Melinda without hurting you. I don't know what you expected to accomplish with an invitation to the Ponderosa, but you obviously weren't happy that you didn't get the attention you thought you deserved, and laid your misery on your daughter. It's a mess between you and Peggy, and you know it." He sighed in frustration as he glared at Laura. "And how could you let her get so far behind in school? That makes everything worse for her."

"I know," she said softly, "but I don't know what to do." She looked directly at him, "I don't know why I'm acting the way I am or why I just told that woman what I did about Melinda, except that maybe for a moment I felt relieved to know that you and Melinda are facing a life that's worse than mine." She gave a twisted smile. "I'm guessing that you're angry because you heard what I told Flora."

"I did. What's worse is that Melinda did too and she believed everything you said."

"Well, it's the truth." Her bravado returned. "I heard Paul telling you those things, and Melinda's going to have to face them. Maybe I did you a favor; _you_ didn't have to tell her the bad news."

""It wasn't your 'truth' to tell, and you didn't hear the most important part of that telegram." He picked up the yellow paper he'd left on the table earlier, and handed it to her. "Read the last two lines."

The paper dropped from her hands as she covered her face. "I'm sorry," she looked back up as her look went from chagrin to defiance, "but what I said _was_ the truth."

"I can forgive Peggy for acting without knowing the outcome. But you knew Melinda would be devastated by hearing those things. I think you meant to hurt her, and unlike your daughter, you didn't understand that what you were doing was wrong and try to stop yourself!"

"I said I was sorry and I'll apologize to Melinda." Laura hung her head. As Adam shoved his chair back and began to stand, she looked up and blurted, "Things are so awful between Will and me."

"You're married to Will now, Laura," he said tersely as he stopped in mid-stand. "This conversation belongs between you and your husband."

"But this is about you."

He pulled back with a look of shock and resumed his seat. "I was pretty clear that I held no ill-will toward either of you, and haven't even seen you since you left Virginia City." Another thought hit him that made him cringe. "You must have realized that even though we had a few things in common, in the end, there wasn't enough between us to have gone through with our wedding plans. I hope you aren't harboring some remorse about your decision to go with Will."

"Of course not!" She scoffed. "The truth is that I never loved you either. I made a bad choice in listening to Aunt Lil. Unfortunately Will has a hard time believing that because I accepted your marriage proposal."

"But Will seemed happy enough when he left with you."

"He was happy at first. He teased that he'd 'won me' away from you because he was the better man. But after we heard about your marriage and your good job in Boston...something started to eat away at him. He was convinced that you'd tricked him into taking me off your hands so you could marry someone else without looking like a scoundrel. Your success ate at him even more. That's when he started using our money for every hair-brained scheme that came along. It didn't take long until there was nothing left. That's when he found more creative ways to get money and ended up in jail."

"I never felt any competitiveness from Will, and I won't be drawn into it now. I can't live differently to make him feel better about himself. Pa said he's setting up a draw-account for you to live on, and he's going to Frisco to speak to Will." He smiled. "That should help. When Pa speaks, people listen."

"Maybe it will make a difference. But right now I'm most worried about Peggy. You're right; I have to do better by her."

"I can't fix what's wrong with your marriage, but Melinda had a great idea to help Peggy…" After telling her about the boarding school and scholarship, he picked up the telegram and stood again. "I think it best that I not have further contact with you, Laura. Perhaps then my cousin can stop worrying about a shadow that only he can see."

Laura rose as well and touched Adam's shoulder. "I think that's best too." She started to walk away, but turned back. "I know I never seemed very grateful for your advice while we were seeing each other, but as bad as things have been lately, without using what you taught me, they would have been a whole lot worse."

Adam hurried up the stairs but stopped short as he neared his bedroom door. It was ajar, and he heard the unmistakable sound of a trigger being locked back. He'd met Mrs. Leonard in the living room so he knew Melinda was alone. Images of an intruder holding her at gunpoint swam into his head as he reached for his own Colt. A more frightening image replaced the first as he realized he'd left his gun on the bed when he'd been upstairs earlier. His stomach turned as he pictured what he would find when he entered. He moved carefully so as not to frighten Melinda, while not waiting to give her time to act before he intervened.

He pushed the door open further and quickly scanned the room. His eyes came to rest on the empty holster. As he focused on Melinda, he saw that his fear was playing out as he imagined. She was holding his gun by the grip, with the muzzle pressed tightly against her chest. He began to breathe again when he saw that her thumbs were still outside the trigger guard. _Thank God_ , he thought as he walked in and sat on the far-end of the bed.

"Thinking about ending it all?" he asked calmly. There was no response. Melinda stared down at the pistol with the same blank look she'd had when she'd sent him away. He spoke again, keeping his tone relaxed. "I know you heard Laura say that you're an invalid and nothing will ever be the same for either of us. You've had a little time to think about that since I went downstairs, and I imagine it's laying heavy on your mind." She nodded once, while still not looking up. He stayed where he was. "If you'll give me a few minutes, I might be able to help you see why everything seems so hopeless now. It should make a difference in your decision. Will you listen?"

She met his gaze long enough to nod again before looking back down and moving her thumbs nearer to the trigger.

"I don't think that you really want to die, Melinda, so I'm guessing you'd take your life to save me from the years of burden you think you'd cause me—a 'no greater love' sort of gift." 1 He moved up a little closer on the bed and continued, "But the truth is that you're making a decision based on incomplete information. Laura overheard a conversation between Paul and me concerning Sam's latest telegram." He unfolded the yellow sheet and smoothed it on his knee. "Everything you heard her say was true. Sam indicates that you could experience several complications." He read from the list noted in the wire, explaining in common terms what each meant.

Her head dipped further as tears began to wet her hands and the barrel of the gun. He wanted to grab the weapon away and hold her as he reassured her, but he feared that any rapid movement might result in tragedy. He also understood that this was something she had to puzzle through on her own.

He spoke soothingly, "You're well aware of how these are affecting you, and you think that your life is over anyway so why not hurry it along." He inched up the bed again. "But what Laura never heard was the last two sentences of this message and they make all the difference in the world." He read again from the telegram: " _Post-fever side effects serious but temporary. Full recovery usually quick and complete._ "

Melinda gasped as she looked up and asked, "True?"

He showed her the telegram, pointing to part he'd read. "Neither Sam nor I would lie to you. Paul says you had meningitis, a condition that caused swelling around your brain and spine. At first it caused severe pain and confusion; then it kept you asleep even though you were probably aware of the pain. You've started to improve now, but the signals your brain is sending to your body are still being detoured by the leftovers of the fever. That's why things aren't working right yet. But according to Sam and Paul, it will get better soon."

Her voice caught in a sob as her hands loosened around the pistol grip.

"Do you believe me?" he asked.

"Wa…want to." She struggled to speak as she looked directly at him for the first time.

"I think you're having trouble thinking things through for the same reasons you feel clumsy and can't speak the way you want." He stroked her hair and gently brought his hand down to the pistol. She didn't resist, but didn't release it completely. He gripped the barrel with his thumb and two fingers as he continued to speak. "If you still think you need to escape this life, then I'll have to adjust your aim before you pull the trigger; it's a little off." He eased the hammer back into place before rotating the gun in her hands until it was pointing at his own heart. "You'd have to start here."

She allowed Adam to take the pistol from her then and reached out for him. He set the weapon aside before gathering her onto his lap while he whispered in her ear, "It'll all be over soon. Just hang onto me until it is." Her tears came harder as she clung to him and sobbed. He breathed a prayer of thanks and held her tight as she cried herself to sleep.


	3. In Search of Safety Part 3

**Part Three – To Boston and Beyond**

 **One – Western Farewells**

Laura and Peggy left as planned the next day following the mother and daughter's heartfelt apologies to the other Mrs. Cartwright. Laura told Melinda and Adam privately that she had spoken to Peggy, and had made her promise to ask about anything she wasn't sure of.

Melinda's recovery was as rapid and complete as Sam Greene had promised. Within a day her movements became more fluid, and her ability to speak in full sentences followed shortly. She and Adam spent another several days on the Ponderosa while her strength returned enough to tackle the next part of their journey, and then they headed for San Francisco, accompanied by the entire Cartwright family.

Once there, Adam contacted Josie, the friend he'd thought would be interested in offering scholarships for young women to attend good schools. She was delighted with the idea and immediately met with Laura and Peggy to get things rolling. They toured the school together, and later Melinda received a note from the principal saying that Peggy had been enrolled for a mid-summer start to get her caught up before classes began in the fall.

Ben spoke to his nephew and offered Will the chance to represent the Ponderosa in California once he was released, telling him that the position brought the promise of hard work with no access to money other than his salary.

Adam, and his college roommate, Frankie Wadsworth—who usually referred to himself Adam's "third" brother, were able to finish their project quickly, and it was soon time to return to Boston. The couple found the private rail car waiting for them, this time attached this time to a cross-country train. It was Adam's gift to his wife to make the trip home as comfortable and restful as possible.

After farewells that included good wishes for both Melinda and Adam, the Western Cartwrights pulled their east-bound member aside for personal sendoffs.

Ben wished his son success and happiness along with a promise to bring everyone to Boston when Adam and Melinda returned from England. The two men lingered in an embrace before a quick, final goodbye handshake.

Joe grasped his brother's hand as he said quietly, "I'm sure glad I got to say goodbye this time. I'll miss your granite head, but not so much as before." A jab to his brother's shoulder preceded his last comment, "Take care of my fishing buddy, ya hear!"

Hoss's farewell was a bear hug followed by, "Take care, brother. I'm sad to see you go again, but you'll always be in here," he pointed to his heart. The big man grinned. "And after seeing you with Melinda, I want to get me a wife real soon."

Adam grinned at his middle brother while stepping up onto railcar's platform, and asked, "You got someone in mind, Hoss, or you just gonna grab some pretty girl off the street?"

 **Two – A New Adventure in England…Or…An End to the Couple from Boston**

Adam held the chair as Melinda took her seat in the formal dining room. He'd arrived home from work with only enough time to greet the newest occupant of the Wadsworth estate in London, before rushing off to change for dinner.

Sam Greene looked at Adam and Melinda across the linen covered table arrayed with its china and crystal, and began to chuckle. "This is some place, isn't it?" he offered as he looked up at the ornate chandelier while a steaming bowl of soup was placed in front of him.

"It sure is." Melinda thanked their server, and continued. "I was overwhelmed with it at first but you get used to it fast. We might as well enjoy it now; It's a lifestyle we'll never be able to afford on our own."

Adam smiled as he raised his spoon and sampled the hot broth. "That's the truth. My family had Hop Sing and he did a lot for us, but to have several people catering to our needs has been interesting. Frank did warn us that to refuse their help will offend the staff and make them think they aren't doing a good job."

"You'll need to tell me a little more about what to expect with them so I don't cause trouble." Sam finished the last of his consommé before asking. "How long have you two been here now?"

"We got here in late September, so about 10 weeks." Adam put his spoon aside. "It's hard to believe we were in Nevada in the spring, and soon we'll celebrate Christmas in London.

Sam nodded. "Time does fly, but I'm sure it's nice to be staying somewhere with a connection to home. It was gracious of the Wadsworths to let us all stay in their house here." He squinted to examine the portrait hanging over the buffet. "That painting almost looks like Frank. I thought he once said that his parents came to Boston in the late 1700s, so I'm not sure how Frank ended up with this house."

Adam turned to the artwork Sam was referencing. "I think this estate came to him through his uncle, Frederick Wadsworth. That's him in the portrait, and I agree that there's a strong family resemblance. Frederick remained a bachelor, and Frank was his only male heir. I think he and Marian had talked about selling the place but realized that keeping it made the most sense for them."

Melinda was listening to the two men talk when she felt an odd sensation in her abdomen and grimaced as a wave of worry warmed her cheeks. She took a deep breath while checking to see whether either of the men had seen her momentary display, and sighed thankfully when noting they had finished their conversation and were concentrating on their entrée. She pushed her concern aside to ask, "What actually brought you to London, Sam? Frank wrote that you were coming and would be staying here while working at the London Hospital, but he didn't really explain why."

"It's because of you," he teased. When he saw her frown he explained. "You'll recall that when you were ill while in Nevada, Paul Martin and I consulted by using telegraphed updates, and then you were nice enough to let us co-author a paper about your experience."

"You sent us a copy of the journal it was in. I thought it was well done." Melinda eyes widened when she noticed the flutter in her stomach again, and she fought to look calm even while her mind raced.

"Apparently others thought it was good too, and that led to Paul and me being invited to present the paper at this year's gathering of physicians in London. Unfortunately Paul's travel time would have been prohibitive and he decided against attending."

"I can understand Paul's dilemma," Adam agreed. "I doubt his patients in Virginia City would have been too happy if he'd taken off for a few months."

Are physicians here so interested in Cat Fever?" Melinda asked.

"I'm sure that's part of it, but I think what impressed them more was how a doctor in the West, and one in the East were able to share information about an illness and treatment by using modern means. The theme of this year's meeting is a challenge to physicians to step beyond old boundaries. The idea so appealed to the heads of Massachusetts General that they arranged a physician exchange with the Royal London Hospital and asked me to stay on here as the first in the new program. Frank said that you two will be here at least a year, and that's about what I foresee as well."

"Since we'll be at opposite ends of the house, we won't see much of each other," Melinda teased. "But I look forward to many dinner conversations to come."

Both men agreed with her before Sam changed the subject. "What's been keeping you two busy?

Melinda beamed, "My publishing company made arrangements for me to work with a progressive teacher here. She read my books on action-based teaching, and is interested in doing something similar."

Sam winked at her. "It sounds like there might there be a co-authored work in your future too." He focused on Adam. "I saw you when you came home from work tonight and you weren't dressed like a man who spends his days in an engineering office."

"I'm an engineering consultant to the John Aird Company, the general contractor on the Millwall enclosed dock."

Sam's eyebrows dipped. "Is an 'enclosed' dock different from a regular one?"

Adam nodded. "The London Pool is the main harbor, but it's so crowded that ships can wait days to get into a berth for unloading. While they're moored, river pirates raid them and take whatever they can get their hands on. These enclosed harbors are built at the end of channels leading from the Thames. They're secure, and the extra cost for using them is offset by getting loads off and on without waiting." He paused to give Sam a moment to imagine how the dock would look. "And you're right about me not working in an office. I'm at the site most days learning as I work on the actual construction. The math involved in this project is a nightmare."

"And he loves every minute of it!" Melinda interjected.

"I do like what I'm doing, and Frank expects that I learn as much as I can so we'll be ready to suggest similar construction in New York and Boston."

Sam wrinkled his nose as he looked out the window at the gloomy evening. "It sure is damp here. It chills to the bone. And what's with that fog? I noticed it as the train pulled into the station and it hung over the streets like a greenish blanket until my cab got close to Frank's house."

"That's the bad part about London," Adam chuckled. "It tends to be foggy here anyway, but what you saw in town is a haze from coal being burned in the factories and homes." Adam saw his friend frown. "You'll tend to forget the bad things as you realize how historic this area is, and we're within a stone's throw of the opera house and concert hall." Adam paused as he tried to remember what he wanted to ask. "Oh, how'd your voyage go? I think you were on the same ship that we took over—the Scotia?"

"One and the same. It's quite a vessel."

Melinda gave a hearty laugh. "Adam pestered the crew so much that they finally took him below and showed him the boilers and pistons, and explained how the whole thing worked."

"You can tease me all you like, darlin', but I learned a lot." He sighed. "I kept wondering what my father and grandfather would think of her. Abel once showed me around a clipper ship when I visited him during a school holiday. So much has changed in just a few years."

Sam turned to Melinda, "And what did you do while your husband prowled the belly of the beast?"

"I was fine the first day out, but then got seasick and I spent my days in the Lady's Lounge."

Adam began, "The strange thing is that the seasickness has continued…" but stopped short as he noted his wife's warning glare out of the corner of his eye.

Sam's tone was concerned, "Have you been ill, Melinda?"

She deflected his question. "It's your first night here, Sam. Let's just enjoy ourselves and catch up with the news from home."

They finished their dessert as Sam told them about how things were going back in Boston. He was in the middle of a story about his going-away party when Melinda stood. She turned ashen as she held her napkin over her mouth, breathing deeply until she could speak, and then mumbled that she wasn't feeling well—before bolting from the room.

Adam rose to follow her, but resumed his seat when saw her maid following her up the stairs. "I know you just got here, Sam, but could I talk to you about Melinda? I know she didn't want me to bring this up yet, but I'm truly worried about her."

"She did look a little pale and shaky when she left. What's troubling her…and you?"

The two men walked into the sitting room where Adam slumped into an overstuffed chair. "You told us that as far as you knew, the effects of that fever shouldn't return. Yet I wonder if that isn't happening. Since we've been here, she's had headaches and is always exhausted. She's always had amazing stamina, so this seems out of character."

"It could just be that she needs a little more time to get her strength back. You two have had a hectic schedule that started almost immediately after she got over the worst of that illness. You traveled from one coast to the other, and then across the ocean, and did a lot in Boston before you left. I'm sure that acclimating here has taken some effort too."

"But you saw her just now. She told you that she had trouble at sea, but the nausea keeps returning."

Sam shrugged and pursed his lips. "I have to say that despite your worries and the episode tonight, I think she looks wonderful. She's even put on a little of the weight she lost during the fever and the appetite problems afterwards. I thought she was much too thin when you two were home."

Adam gave a half-smile and then lapsed back into a worried frown. "I'll admit that she does look good except for those 'spells.' She doesn't want to talk about them and gets testy when I question her, so I don't say much anymore. Lately she's tried to cover up the fact that she's not feeling well, but I can tell, and the fact that she hides it concerns me even more. I also notice that she panics whenever she forgets something or can't come up with a word fast enough to suit her. I think she's afraid the dysphasia is returning." He breathed deeply as his face set in worry. "The truth is that…" He sighed as his words trailed to silence.

"Go on," Sam encouraged his friend. "Seeing how upset you look, I'm as worried about you as you seem to be about Melinda."

He closed his eyes and thought about the root of his anxiety and finally blew out his breath. "Sometimes I think we won't ever get ahead of it."

Sam's head dipped as his forehead creased. "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"Whenever I think we've left our past trials behind, they catch up and the tests start again. We left Boston and went to the Ponderosa hoping that life would be less dramatic for a while, and then she almost died there! It seems I can't protect Melinda anywhere."

"But she didn't die," Sam said softly. He considered what Adam had said, and offered, "I imagine you came to London expecting that could set your course to the future instead of looking back. Yet you worry now that this illness might have caught up for another shot at Melinda?"

Adam nodded. "That…or something even worse."

Sam looked squarely at his friend, and rose. "Why don't I go up and see Melinda. I'm sure she knows how worried you are, so maybe it'll be easier for her to tell me about _her_ concerns. I can either put both your fears to rest or find a specialist for a thorough exam once I check in at the hospital tomorrow."

Adam stood too and shook his hand. "Thanks, Sam. I was hoping you might do just that. I asked her to see a doctor here but she wanted to wait for you." He stalked the rooms downstairs for a bit before going up to continue his pacing outside the room. The walls of the house were thick and the doors heavy so there was no eavesdropping possible, and he was forced to walk off his tension and wait until allowed inside.

"You're sure?" Melinda asked.

"Absolutely," the doctor replied while standing next to the bed, holding her hands.

"Why didn't I see what was happening?"

"Both you and Adam were sure the side effects of the fever had returned and the long gaps between your cycles weren't unusual, so you only saw those things that supported your fears." His smile was kindly as he teased, "Besides, neither of you are doctors. If you could diagnose yourself, you'd have no need of me."

"I suppose you're right about that. I also suppose you'd better let him in here now. I'm sure he's out there pacing like a tiger."

Sam walked toward the door and looked back before turning the knob. "I imagine you'd like to tell him?"

She nodded. "Thank you, Sam." Tears began to spill down her cheeks. "How long do I have yet?"

"I'd say four to five months. I'll be able to give a more accurate estimate after a better exam. I'll do that once I get settled at the hospital." He turned the knob, "I'll keep Adam outside for a bit while you compose yourself."

"So? What's wrong?" Adam demanded while trying to push past Sam into the room.

Sam took his friend's arm, steering him back into the hallway. "Let her be for a minute or two. She's a little emotional right now." He closed the door, leaving it enough ajar that Melinda could hear what he was saying.

"The news must be bad. I saw her crying."

"I'm not at liberty to say what it is, but I'll assure you that it's not Cat Fever."

"Then what is it?"

"The one thing I will tell you is that your life as a couple will end in less than five months."

Adam's head spun as he considered the possibilities. He drew a deep breath and steeled himself for the worst. "What does that mean?"

Sam peeked around the door to see how his patient was doing, and stepped aside, motioning Adam to enter. "Your wife will explain what's going on. Now put a smile on your face and go to her. I'm turning in. I'll see you both in the morning."

Adam walked to the side of the bed, unable to speak the fear that was assaulting his mind and heart. Yet Melinda's demeanor didn't fit his dire conclusion regarding Sam's only clue. Her cheeks were a rosy pink from the tears, but she looked comfortable and serene. He finally smiled down at her. "Our physician wouldn't tell me what's wrong. He just said we only had a few months left together."

The corners of her mouth turned up as she gently reminded him, "That's not what he _said_ , Adam; that's what you _heard_. He said that we have four months left as a _couple_."

His jaw tightened as his hands clenched at his side. "Why would the word, _couple,_ change the significance?" The conversation he'd had with his father the night Melinda's fever had broken, filtered into his memory and jabbed at his heart. He took her hands as he sat next to her. "I'm sorry, Melinda. I suspected that the stress and anxiety of being married to me might become too much for you." He breathed deeply. "All I ever wanted was to keep you safe while we found a future together, but that doesn't seem possible. Trouble has always followed me, and it has continued pursuing both of us since we've been together. I can understand if you need to find a more normal life."

She smiled as she caressed his cheek. "I love you, even if you are a fool! Hoss said the Cartwrights 'ain't never been normal,' and since I'm a Cartwright, I think his assessment applies to me as well." Melinda cupped his cheeks and looked into his eyes. "The first time I held your face like this, you were unconscious because you'd fallen from a ladder while trying to get a better look at me down below. That gave me a good indication of what you were like. It didn't make me run away then, and I'm not going anywhere now. I wouldn't trade any of our _troubles_ together for an _easier_ or _safer_ life without you. The place I feel safest is in your arms, Adam, and the only future I can imagine is by your side."

His tension eased as a sheepish grin replaced his frown. "I am a truly fortunate man." He sat back and exhaled as he tried again to make sense of what was going on. "But if you're not planning to leave me, then why won't be a couple, and what _is_ making you ill?"

"I'm not sick, Adam. What I'm experiencing is normal for someone with my condition."

Adam's forehead wrinkled. "What condition is that?"

"The nausea and exhaustion, along with the newest symptom—a fluttering in my abdomen—all point to something wonderful: something we've both wanted since the day we were married." She draped her hands over his shoulders and winked. "Neither of us dared to consider a happy possibility because we were too busy waiting for the past to catch up or expecting new ordeals." He nodded as she continued, "Sam confirmed what I'd already concluded tonight after I'd allowed myself to put the clues together without fear… We won't be a couple in four months because we'll be a family.

Adam's smile grew as laughter broke free from his worried heart. He gathered Melinda into his arms and held her tightly. "Let me make sure I understand before I start shouting out the window and sending telegrams. Everything that's been happening is normal…because you…because you're carrying…"

She brought her lips to his ear and whispered, "Our future."

The End…

*From my story, _When Words are Hard to Find_.

**From my story, _Sunny With a Chance of Rain_.

1John 15:13


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